#but like. i doubt it. and ngl it's worth the risk

[stringsbasement]

ngl i 100% thought peri would be an antagonist

he's the first fairy in thousands of years, born directly under the lineage of what has to be the most powerful fairy family line in current existence

(cosmo is a von strangle, and also the very reason fairies stopped having babies in the first place. he's incredibly powerful and nobody talks about it for some reason. it's clear peri inherited that destructive potential)

the second he was born, entire fairy species (including his own kin) were out to get him to use his volatile magic for their own selfish goals. he's nearly kidnapped thrice, and almost ends the universe on the same day

the threats keep coming, and he's being dragged to countless adventures that put him at risk. he literally ceases to exist more than once

anyway, i wouldn't be surprised if some form of expectations were placed upon him growing up. maybe not by his family, but he's famous (a teacher described him as such once); in fairy world, he's automatically adored and celebrated by adults and peers alike, which foop antagonizes (and tries to kill) him for

cosmo and wanda would, realistically, of course try to shield him from all this, but no matter what they do, he's inevitably isolated

people either want to use him, put him on a pedestal, or is a universally infamous human godchild who will forget all about him in a matter of years

(cosmo and wanda becoming godparents and learning (choosing) to eventually let go of their kids is one thing, but it can be assumed poof was still a young, underdeveloped child by the time timmy (+chloe, for what it's worth) got his memories wiped

and he sees that timmy's able to live his own happy life without him in it. he lost his brother just like that, and there's nothing he can do despite all his godly powers)

there's so, so many ways he could've gone wrong

thus, my initial thought was that peri was going to be a somewhat petty, "spoiled brat," and him becoming a godparent would be the result of spite or rebellion, which cosmo and wanda would feel entirely responsible for. I HATE MY PARENTS!! yada yada yada

it was a pleasant surprise to see all those clips of them loving each other. and it's not even because i doubted for a second that cosmo and wanda are bad parents, it's just what you usually expect when seeing shows from the 2000s, even if it doesn't make sense

all things considered, i'm very glad they went for the lighthearted silly family trope. not every show needs such conflicts, and showing healthy dynamics are better for kids overall

still, i find it interesting to think about if they'd gone down another route instead. i love me a pathetic cringy villain who tries (fails) to hate the people they love the most

[fatum679]

Hi. I have a few questions and would like to hear your opinion.

What do you think of Aemond's actions at Rook's Rest? Do you see it as him intentionally wanting to get rid of Aegon or him simply not caring and primarily aiming at Meleys and Rhaenys, while also seeing Aegon as a collateral victim ? He sure gets a lot of hate for it now, especially from green fandom. Do you think he can be justified at all? Personally, I'm not happy with how the show depicted Aegon/Aemond dynamic cause it could have been very interesting and complex, but the way they resolved it in the show did seriously disappoint me, ngl.

Also, do you think that Helaena will know what happened? We know that Hel and Aemond share a scene in ep 5 in the throne room and I was wondering what her reaction could be (anger, indiferrence, sadness, another vague prophecy... )? I'm curios to see how are they going to depict their dynamic since it will be the first time they actually interact (I still can't believe that the showrunners missed the opportunity when Jaehaerys was killed).

Thanks in advance for your answers!

Hello!

I'll be clear, I don't like Aegon and I have no problem with Aegon and Aemond not having a loving brotherly relationship. Aegon is a terrible big brother, he taunted and bullied Aemond his whole life and wouldn't stop. "He's a twat." Aegon took the 13-year-old child for his birthday to a brothel. Aemond did not want this, he was brought there by force.

In season two he treated Aemond like his own weapon "My brother, at least, knows his plase. He's as loyal as a hound. I can set him ans his dragon on my foes at will".

I see that Aemond wants revenge and he wants justice.

But I am absolutely against what happened in Rook's Rest. I see that this was specifically written by the writers to take the blame off Rhaenys. Rhaenys killed a large number of people at the coronation and tg stans used this argument against tb stans. So I believe this was done intentionally. Rhaenys' crime was given to Aemond. We are sold the idea that there is a "good side" and a "bad side", a "Mary Sue" side and a "villainous villain" side.

That is why in episode 5 the residents of the capital are not happy about the victory over the Meleys. But why? This dragon has killed many innocents, it has left many children without parents and it has crippled many. This is propaganda. They are promoting to us that TB is concerned about people, but this is not true.

Rhaenys's crime was deliberately given to Aemond. Aegon was deliberately made stupider. I don’t believe that when he saw Meleys he didn’t think that “This dragon is bigger than mine, maybe it’s not worth attacking directly.” This battle was meant to unite Aegon and Aemond. This does not mean that they will respect and love each other, but for the same purpose they had to unite. “You may cuff him about as you wish at home, but in the world, we must defend our own”.

I was also expecting more fire in this battle.

I see Helaena's reaction as Aemond becoming something he never was. It's sadness I see. Helaena is the voice of conscience for Aemond.

Aemond really supported Aegon "I only wish to serve my king and my house" "We can't risk losing you" But AEGON DIDN'T CHANGE "My brother, at least, knows his plase. He's as loyal as a hound. I can set him ans his dragon on my foes at will" "What a fine, sweet thing, did you fuck her like a hound?" I doubt you would support a person who puts you down.

I understand Aemond's "betrayal", but it shouldn't have been the way it was portrayed on the show. Aemond would not deprive his party of a dragon. Perhaps we will be told more in other episodes.

I'll just describe Aemond with this quote, but I think he had a lot of bad days in his life: «All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy. That's how far the world is from where I am. Just one bad day»

Unfortunately, in episode 5 we were only given crumbs, but in episodes 6-8 there should be more Helaemond scenes and according to the leaks, Aemond should realize that Helaemond is a dreamer and ask her for advice. The actors also talked a lot in interviews about their relationship and that they played Helaemond. I'm just waiting and hoping.

[idealisticrealism]

TCL 3x10 thoughts

The main things: 

The ep starts immediately after last ep, then goes to the next morning and takes place over just one day. Nadia also says it’s been ‘an eventful few weeks’ since she made the deal to buy the house (which was in 3x01, so the entire season has taken place over around 3 weeks)

One of my favourite things about this series, and about Thony specifically, is that she’s not only an unintentional angel of death for the people around her, but also for criminal empires?? Literally this show is full of seasoned criminals who thrived for years in the darkest parts of the Vegas underworld, and then they encounter Thony, and boom! Down they go. Hayak. Cortes. Kamdar. (Even Arman, in a slightly different way). And now it looks like Sin Cara is next… honestly the Feds should be falling at her feet in gratitude haha 

Lol at Thony and Fi’s little bit of theatre for Jeremy as they set up their own little ‘sting’ for him. Thony actually nearly breaking and laughing at Fi’s ranting for a second was so cute, because while this is a serious situation, it is a bit bizarre to think that this is what their life has become. And this scene was so worth it just to get to watch two skilled actors having to pretend to be bad at acting… moments like this are always fun, like a kind of act-ception haha. Ngl it’s a good thing that Thony confronts Jeremy by the end of the episode though, bc I doubt it would have taken much longer for him to notice something was up, with all the dramatic conversations happening right in front of his bugs while and other conversations were hushed under the cover of super loud TV/music. Not to mention the suspiciously intentional-looking plumbing emergencies lol (seriously Thony?? A hammer??? lol).  To be fair though, Fi’s acting did improve a lot by the end, with their clever little ploy to make Jeremy think Thony was on her way to kill Nadia. That entire sequence was done well– even though anyone who has been watching the show for more than like a week would know that Thony would never kill Nadia (at least while literally any other option existed), it was still enjoyable to experience the ‘suspense’ that the creative team set up regarding Nadia’s fate. I just hope that she can make it through the finale… 

Honestly I love the deliberate continued theme in this show of Thony being caught between worlds, and the constant push and pull of ‘good vs evil’ and ‘power vs vulnerability’. It’s why, despite all her efforts, she can never quite escape the criminal world, and she can never quite escape the hold of the FBI either. And they’re often tied up together, too– to protect herself or someone she cares about from one, she reaches out to the other. In late s1, Arman helped protect her from the FBI by agreeing to be an informant, and in turn she was part of the plan to protect him from both the FBI and Hayak. In S2, she agrees to inform for the FBI again in order to protect Arman and keep him out of prison. And now, she’s making that same deal– and risking her own safety– but for Nadia this time. To me, though, I think that she’s reached a kind of ‘fool me once’ situation with the FBI, and though she says she’s going to help then take down Sin Cara, I think she is actually going to be following her own agenda, and using the ties she has to both the cartel and the FBI to manipulate them into taking each other out, and leaving her being the only one left standing. And god I hope that’s where things are headed bc I would be so here for it.

I really wish we’d been able to see a lot more of Thony and Nadia’s relationship this season, because it’s so compelling and complex and I’ve loved every moment they’ve shared so far. Nadia’s “oh no” at seeing Thony walking into the club was hilarious; they haven’t seen each other in the week or so since the wake, but Thony showing up at the club looking deathly serious is never a good sign. I loved that they were immediately like ‘ok bye Jorge the grownups need to talk’ tho lol– he may have formed connections with both of them, but he hasn’t gotten to this level of club membership yet. Thony’s first question to Nadia (“Did you cut a deal with the feds?”) felt like an interesting tie-in to the events of earlier eps, given that it was exactly what Nadia asked her at the wake– tbh these two must feel like they’re on a merry-go-round or something, and it’s all because they just haven’t been completely open with one another!!! But finally, here, they’re starting to be, even if it’s too goddamn late now (*adele voice* we could have had it aaaaaalll). But anyway ughhhh “All I wanted was to find Arman, like you. I wanted to protect him.” Honestly Nadia acknowledging/accepting Thony’s genuine love of Arman has been one of the parts of this season that I have appreciated the most. These two women are bonded by that love, which is why Thony telling Nadia she should have come to her is such a punch in the gut, because you can see her pain and regret, her utter dismay at the fact that her preoccupation with her own family (getting Fi and Chris back, preventing Luca from being taken away) led her to overlook what was going on with Nadia– aka with Arman’s family– and now she has let down the only other person Arman truly loved. And I think she went to La Habana fully intending to warn her, but then it became clear that Nadia wouldn’t listen to her even if she did try to pose the fake-death plan (“You always think you know everything. But you don’t”), and would’ve almost certainly tried to run instead, endangering both of them. So instead Thony tries once more to talk Ramona out of it (unsuccessfully, of course), and ugh when she says she wants to take care of Nadia herself “For Arman” and she squeezes her eyes shut as she says his name… the grief of losing him is still so goddamn fresh and now she’s terrified she’s going to fail him by not being able to save Nadia in time. But that’s the thing about Thony– she never gives up on the people she loves. And because of Arman, that group includes Nadia. 

Nadia’s reaction to Thony striding straight into her house (literally how does Thony even know where that is?) is so funny bc she doesn’t even get angry, it’s just like mild exasperation as she tries to convince Thony to leave. That is, until her brain catches up and suddenly she just stops and says “What’s happening?” because she knows Thony, knows that she wouldn’t actually barge in like this without a damn serious reason. When Thony tells her the danger she’s in, she believes her immediately (ugh her panic was hard to watch) and immediately begs for Thony to help– because while they may have a complex relationship, she knows that Thony is the only person she has left who actually cares what happens to her, and she also knows that Thony is clever and capable and holds a surprising amount of power, and often does manage to fix things even when a situation seems impossible. Which is exactly what Thony does next– and while I wish that Thony had explained to Nadia about what she was going to do, so Nadia didn’t have to have those brief moments of terror and betrayal before she lost consciousness, I get that it had to be written this way or it would have spoiled the twist. But oh man, even though I knew  Thony wouldn’t kill her and that she was going to be fine, the relief at seeing her wake up on that couch was still so damn real, phew. Eva did an amazing job with Nadia’s emotions on waking up, from utter confusion to a mix of relief, gratitude and anger. The scene between her and Thony in Jeremy’s lair felt like it was cut off midway through, which I guess means that they’re going to pick up exactly where they left off in the finale next week, like this was actually a 3-part finale rather than a 2 parter, and I can’t wait to see more of the Nadia/Thony dynamic next week.

And given my love for both Nadia and Thony, gotta say I do love how much Ramona herself has shown genuine admiration for both women, for their competence, intelligence, determination, fortitude, their coolness under pressure, and their desire for power. (Like in her conversation with Ramona, Thony would always deny that desire, but tbh people who want a simple family life do not become cardiac surgeons. Much like being a cartel leader, it’s a profession that provides money, prestige, authority, and a near-godlike ability over life and death– ergo, power). Anyway, Ramona’s entire art collection, her life, is centred around women with those traits, and tbh in another life I think these three incredible women could have become an unbeatable team that ruled Vegas together. Ramona saw that possibility and tried to make it happen, only for both of them to reject her, and now… well, I think we are heading for a ‘this town ain’t big enough for the both of us’ situation, and lbr it’s going to be Thony that’s the one left standing

Honestly I love that I have written a bunch of words already for this ep, and it’s all been about women– that’s one of the true gifts of this show, how much it focuses on women and their stories and their relationships. In the earlier seasons it was mostly just focused around Thony and Fi’s characters, but after the loss of Adan, and having a female villain for a change (two if you count Russo), the focus on women has definitely expanded and been even more apparent this season. I’m sad that it’s looking unlikely that Ramona or my baby Nadia will return next season, because they deserved to have more of their story told. Still, I’m clinging to the hope that Nadia may somehow return, and I’ll get more of the amazing Thony & Nadia dynamic that we all deserve

Anyway I guess I could talk about a boy now– though given that he is literally surrounded by women in his life, Jorge is an honorary girl to me lol. It was cute to see him so excited about all the hotel stuff, from his big spiel to Nadia to all the proposal materials in his office– looks like he’s finally found his own path, not just the one Ramona chose for him. (Though holy shit it’s so messed up that the corporate world is literally the best place to hide illegal activity, wow). I found it hilarious that when Jorge was trying to sell Nadia on the hotel idea and saying all this stuff about how she’ll be the face of it etc, the picture very clearly shows he’s planning to call it ‘JS hotel’ lol. So she’s the face but it’s named after you?? Hmmm. Also geez he laid it on a little thick with the flattery there, but I guess it worked, because you could see how smitten she was with the hotel idea. And I can understand how some people might interpret that as her being smitten with him, but I genuinely don’t think so. First of all, she lost the man she loved literally like a week and a half ago; there’s no way that she has even the slightest inclination to look at anyone romantically right now. Plus, the show has already established that she’s incredibly good at reading people. She knows he’s trying to manipulate her in order to access her money, but in her life, that’s just a demonstration of good business skills. She sees what working with him can give her, and she wants it. In S1 she says to Arman “What do we own? Nothing”-- I think it’s hugely important to her character to actually be in possession of something big, to be the owner, not just the manager, to remove herself as far from the powerless girl from the Argentinian slums as she can. Anyway I love that one of his arguments is that she’ll be ‘set for life’ if they do this… because apparently already having 50 million dollars isn’t being set for life??? Man, what a world they live in haha. Anyway with it seeming unlikely that Nadia will be around next season, I wonder if the hotel will still somehow happen in S4? Maybe somehow Thony gets involved with it, though I don’t really see her wanting any part in something like that… tbh my main concern is that we might not get to see the La Habana set next season :(

Seeing Jeremy’s reaction to being burned was so satisfying. Not so clever now, are you, buddy?? Got outsmarted by a civilian just like Garrett did, and now you’ll be working with her, just like Garrett… but unlike Garrrett, she has zero regard or sense of obligation toward you, and so you may think she’s gonna work with you and follow your orders, but think again. She’s just going to bide her time until she has you right where she wants you, and then she will completely fuck you over, because you betrayed her family and took the man she loves, and that’s what you deserve. Be grateful if you walk out of all of this alive. 

Other stuff:

Omg Fi going for the baseball bat to take out the smoke alarm. Someone has issues with impulsivity haha. Tbh her and Thony’s entire relationship is just the two of them taking turns holding each other back from doing something stupid and I love it

Ugh seeing Nadia standing all alone in that huge empty house, talking about how it’s time to put the past behind her and have a fresh start… and then later saying to Jorge that she just wants to be free… and then Thony telling her at the end that she’s free and she tells Thony that she took her whole life form her… ugh stop giving me stressful foreshadowing here writers. If Nadia has to go, write her out by having her run away into the sunset with her millions. Don’t make me watch her die twice!!!!!!!!!

I didn't initially remember seeing Ramona and Russo cross paths at La habana, but @gsue74 reminded me that they glimpse each other across the club the first time Ramona goes there, and Ramona noticed the way Nadia reacted to her arrival. Well done of the writers to plant that in 3x04 to come back up now. Anyway I do enjoy Russo’s sassiness though. It was never super obvious before bc she was always having to play the serious one keeping Garrett in line, but I think I see why they got along lol

Oh boy the agent that scared Violeta really fucked up lol, like maybe don’t piss off a super powerful cartel leader??? Dude’s gonna be feeding the fishes in the Hoover Dam in no time lol

 I love that the proposed hotel site is completely in the middle of nowhere, like too bad if the guests want to visit any other part of Vegas haha. Though I guess that might be entire point, to make it like a one-stop shop so guests will spend all their time and money in the one place lol

JD is such a cutie. Loved him taking advantage of a free weekday to bring thoughtful gifts for his bae. Lol at Fi shutting him up with a kiss– she really needs to go somewhere private and tell him everything though, bc he needs to know so he doesn’t inadvertently screw things up for them again. 

I really felt for Fi when she found the immigrant worker house empty– this show is always full of painful near-misses in terms of timing, but at least in this case there’s still the hope that Thony will be able to use her sway over Jorge to find Camila and Gisele

Anyway ugh the promo for the finale looks so good… Nadia at Thony’s house, wearing borrowed clothes while Thony makes a plan to get her her money back… Jorge apparently being there too and helping them… Thony in a fancy dress, shooting a gun… it might be Ramona’s assassin guy that she shoots (one of the clips looks like he could be fighting with Jeremy) but man it would be cool if it was actually Ramona or Jeremy that she shoots, and honestly I’m so down for either of those options. Maybe she even does it to protect one of them from the other– like maybe she shoots Ramona to save Jeremy, which would mean she’d probably get pardoned by the FBI for everything. Or she shoots Jeremy to save Ramona, making Ramona extremely grateful, and as a result Ramona makes sure the shooting never ties back to her, and brings her into Sin Cara in a position of power…. Either way it’s going to make for an interesting S4!  

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Thank You for adding this to @yenzys-lucky-charm and mines challenge. 😍😏

This was so friggin good and my little dark romance loving heart was absolutely smitten with Steve. 🖤

As soon as we were introduced to the situation these two in, I could feel anticipation about what might happen. I mean a woman can't help but notice right? You made him the right amount of intimidating and soft in parts. At least in the beginning.

Ngl those tattoos, why am I a weak hoe for a man in tattoos??? They make me feral, I swear!

Then when Steve shifts, like he is trusting the reader enough to let out this other more intense side of him? Yes ma'am I AM HERE FOR THAT CONFIDANT FLIRTING. Steve knows the signs, picks right up on the readers interest and arousal. If I was in that situation, I would be too.

The fact the reader even decided to go for it... damn that's a risk, but well worth it if you ask me. Sounds like Steve is... talented. Would I b going to my knees? 100 percent absolutely. No shame, I am what I am for fictional characters.

Can I'm say I'm surprised he busted out and went straight to the reader, not at all. In his mind she's his, and she hasn't done NOTHING really to say otherwise. I mean sure it's implied but well Steve might not think in that way.

So her fear? Genuine (I mean if it was me, I would be addicted to the adrenaline rush and terrified at the same time 🤣😏) I wonder if she will convince him to go.bck? I doubt it, he really seems set.on being the one to take care of the reader which is just such a Steve vibe.

I absolutely was addicted to this, I've been in my dark romance era lately and this just hit oh so good.

Thank you again so much for this! It was such a good read.

talk so sweet when you’re doing bad things

✨Pairing✨: inmate!softdark!Steve Rogersxpsychiatrist!black!reader

Summary🪄: Your pining isn’t in vain

🚨: 18+ NO MINORS!, oral (m!receiving), unprotected happy adult times (please be safe out there guys and girls!), language, obsessive like behavior, implied stalking, mention of masturbation (f!receiving)

A/N🎤: ✨HAPPY SPOOKY SEASON🎃!!✨ this is my submission to the Horny Hoes Hootenanny hosted by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork and @yenzys-lucky-charm and I hope you guys like what I came up with☺️! Also please support the other works for this event and even submit your own if you feel inclined💕!

Fic inspo:

*DISCLAIMER!: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were found on Pinterest*

Dialogue Prompt: “Don’t act all innocent when we both know where your mouth just was”

Tropes/Situational Prompt: the villain/monster has feelings (or thots) for you

You didn’t have to hear a name to know which escaped inmate the news anchors were currently talking about.

“Blonde white male, blue eyes, 6’3, considered highly dangerous.”

You knew him very well having had him as a patient for about a year now. Pretty much the same amount of time his hulking body - yet soft features - has plagued your dreams and hidden fantasies. That first night it happened, your imagination vividly playing in your resting mind how his thick fingers would touch you just right to have you writhing and moaning for more, you were…flustered.

It wasn’t the first time - and probably wouldn’t be the last - that a patient made a surprise appearance in one of your dreams. Details and analysis from earlier sessions still fresh in your subconscious and lingering into your resting state. It was how you felt afterwards though, that told you this instance was far different. You desperately - and a little shamefully - wished you could sink back into that erotic dreamland when you awoke throbbing and needy from the scenes now branded in your memory. Sometimes you even found yourself daydreaming about his muscular, tattooed arms wrapped tightly around you. His soft lips gently pecking along your face before journeying down your heated body to where you wanted him most. That dark beard scratching and tickling your inner thighs until it ultimately became soaked.

Although that hidden primal urge wanted differently, every day after you expertly maintained your professionalism during your sessions with him. Carefully dissecting his words and explanations to make sure he wasn’t a danger to himself or others - well, no more than what other people already believed that is.

However one day, something shifted.

Gone was his reserved attitude - clearly deciding whether to fully trust you - and instead, a man who seemed…one step ahead. Dare you say a little smug. Admittedly, this new aura had a familiar warmth spreading along your lower abdomen causing your thighs to squeeze together as you slightly shifted in your seat.

“So, how are you today Mr. Rogers?,” you asked turning to a fresh sheet of paper in your spiral notebook.

He sighs, briefly widening his thick legs as he gets comfortable. His tattooed hand scratching along his bearded jaw. “Good as I can be. And I think we’ve known each other long enough that you can call me Steve.”

“Is that what you would prefer?”

For the first time, a hint of a smirk paints his pink lips thinking of a few names he’d prefer you call him. It’s unknown to you though as your hand moves along the page scribbling notes. “Makes things more comfortable right?”

Finally you look up from your writing to meet an intensity in his sea like eyes you’ve never experienced. You can’t look away though as you feel yourself slowly become flustered. “Are you not comfortable during our sessions..Steve?”

He pauses for a moment simply letting his eyes roam along your features - as if analyzing you for a change - before leaning forward with elbows on his knees. “What’re you writing?”

“Just observations. Notes for your file.”

“We can’t make our own notes?”

“Um..of course. I would actually suggest journaling as a way to manage your emotions; your thoughts. Keeping up with other suggestions from our sessions you might find helpful.”

“And my own observations,” he adds leaning back in his chair. “Like you.”

“What exactly do you mean ‘like me’?”

“Like how you seem…different. Bothered maybe.” You subtly try to calm your increasing pulse as he crosses his arms across his chest. His muscles straining against the white tee that have you near dripping already. Swirls of black ink forming various pictures and cursive words on his arms teasingly persuading you to kiss each one.

There’s no way he could tell was there?

“Thank you for inquiring, but this session is about you Steve,” you answer closing the notebook in your lap. “And as a warning, that question is ina-,”

“Must be tiring though. Always doing for others, yet no one there for you.” Steve’s tongue peeks out ever so gently wetting his lips. “No one to take care of you.”

“I’m an adult. I care for myself.”

“My point exactly.” Steve’s head just barely tilts while his vice drops an octave lower. “We both know everyone shouldn’t do everything alone.”

“I think we’re done here,” you quickly respond so he couldn’t go farther and crumble your resolve. “Have a good day Mr. Rogers.”

There’s a slight mischievous tilt to his lips as he stands. Cords of muscles moving under his shirt with such a subtle movement. His hands clasp in front of him turning to walk towards the door where a guard always waited to escort him back to his cell, and you can’t help but silently admire the expanse of his backside. From his broad shoulders to his thick thighs, the sight causes that pulse between your legs to start again.

“You too” is all he says once he’s near the door, but his earlier words leave a lasting impression throughout your day. You can’t seem to focus on your other clients constantly thinking of his deep voice, his pink lips, the intense way he looked at you that wasn’t uncomfortable but made you feel seen.

That night was the fastest you’ve ever came - squeezing and clutching around the rubber toy inside you so hard you genuinely thought there’d be an indentation when you finally pulled it from your messy core.

Something also snapped in you, wanting - needing - to know if Steve was just as good as you fantasized. That’s admittedly how your arrangement began, first sweet talking the guard into taking his lunch earlier after overhearing his child was sick. “He hasn’t had any violent acts in a little over a year. His file can attest that he’s currently not a danger. I’ll be fine, your kid needs you.” Reluctantly, he followed your suggestion but would of course try to be back in time for transport.

“You call if anything goes left, alright? Remember your panic button,” the man, maybe 10 years older, states peering dead center into your pupils so you’d know he was serious and he’d know you were listening. A quick nod sends him on his way to retrieve Steve; leaving you to mentally prepare yourself for what was to come.

A smirk tugs on his lips once the door closes behind him. His deep blue eyes raking up and down your seated body; appreciating the black, knee-length pencil skirt you chose to wear rather than your typical slacks. “Good afternoon Steve.”

“Afternoon,” he replies slightly tilting his head forward in greeting. “Since we’re still meeting, I take it what I said wasn’t all that bad. That you might’ve even agreed with me..”

Fast forward, your secret rendezvouses were still going strong. You on your knees for him just as you were that first day gladly bobbing up and down his throbbing length. Your hand not clutching his thigh twisting and rubbing what you couldn’t reach.

“This is how you act a week without me huh?,” he smirks with his larger hand clutching the back of your neck. When you peer up at him through wet lashes - moaning as you nod your head - he nearly comes undone cursing under his breath as the veins in his neck distend in that way you love so much.

Just as you feel him twitch in your mouth, he’s quick to pull you off causing you to gasp for breath as he maneuvers you to your feet. Turning you so your back would hit the wall as he hurriedly pushes your dress up over your hips. As usual, he’s met with your bare center glistening and ready for him.

“Fuck..need to be inside you,” Steve whispers against your lips before claiming your mouth as he’s done plenty times before. His tongue easily dominating yours only makes you wetter and thighs feel sticky.

“Steve please,” you pout. “Fill me up.” His hand grips under your knee simultaneously lifting and spreading you so he could slide in. His member thick, red, and leaking when he pulls down his orange pants. Luckily Steve wasn’t in the teasing mood, roughly entering your needy hole and making you loudly moan before his mouth was covering yours again.

“You’re gonna get us caught sweetheart,” he chuckles kissing along your jaw and neck. “Then again, maybe that’s what you want.” His pace begins to quicken as your hands clutch his shoulders and fingernails dig into his skin causing him to groan. “Want someone to see how good I make you feel? How deep you take me?”

“Steve,” you whine letting your head fall back against the wall. The slapping of his hips against yours nearly drowning out your panting and whimpers. “S’close.”

“I know, I know. God you’re so pretty like this, all blissed out and dumb.” He practically growls into your chest trying to hold on for longer, but he knows he’ll be gone soon the way you squeeze around him so tight. Even after all these months of meetings.

His free hand moves between you to circle your nearly raw nub as he switches between kisses and nips along your breast making you arch and tears prick the corners of your eyes feeling that addicting wave overtake you. “Ste-..I-…plea-,”

“Give it to me, cmon.” It wasn’t long after your release crashed into you that Steve was following, burying his face in your neck as he kept his moans and whimpers low. His hand massages your achy thigh while he pecks along the column of your throat in an effort to calm you down.

“My pretty girl. Did so good for me.” You couldn’t help but giggle feeling your cheeks heat at his words.

“T-Thank you Steve.”

How so much can change in the matter of hours.

-

Sat on your couch, knees pressed against your chest, all you can do is listen as the man rummages in your fridge and pantry trying to find whatever it was he wanted. The television playing a game show you’d usually be interested in, but now can’t even hear it with the pounding in your ears. Your heart still thudding since first leaving your bedroom to investigate the noise you heard and finding him in your living room.

“Figured you’d want some,” he states placing the cup of peppermint tea on the table in front of you. How he knew, you didn’t have the stomach to think about let alone how he knew where you lived in the first place.

“Y-You shouldn’t be here,” you whisper as he sits on the opposite end of the couch. Your first words to him tonight.

Steve just lowly chuckles. “Don’t act all innocent when we both know where your mouth just was.”

“That still doesn’t give-,”

“Then why leave your key?,” he counters. “Of all our sessions I didn’t even know you had them. Yet today there it was.”

You didn’t purposely leave your key. Already in a rush when you arrived that morning, you just left it out rather than placing it in your wallet like usual. It wasn’t until you were in your car on the way home that you remembered it shining against the hardwood off to the side. According to protocol, you should’ve notified someone but you figured you could just get it the next morning and use your spare in the meantime.

In retrospect, you realize Steve must’ve seen and swiped it when you weren’t looking. Probably when you were cleaning yourself up and righting your dress.

“The key was just out Steve,” you carefully try to explain seeing the confusion in his features. “I didn’t leave it on purpose.”

“So now this is all my fault?”

“No it’s no one’s fault-,”

His sudden movement - standing to pace along the expanse of your bay window - startles you to stand yourself and ready to run if needed. “Can’t you see I did this for us?!”

“I-I know Steve, but-,”

“No,” he darkly chuckles shaking his head as he steps closer. “No don’t even try. This is real and we both know it!”

You quickly wipe away the tear falling from your eye trying to stay calm; hoping you could turn the situation around. That feeling entirely fleets watching him pull out his notebook and flip through the dated pages smudged with something…shiny.

“I saved these just in case you tried to deny it. Make it seem like I was the crazy one.”

Cautiously, you close the gap between you. Luckily he lets you hold his hand when you reach out towards him. “Y-You’re not crazy and I’m not denying anything Steve.” His frustration shifts to a soft smile gazing into your brown eyes. “We need to get you back to your cell though. You don’t wanna ruin all your progress right?”

Somehow you steady yourself not to flinch when his hand rises to caress your soft cheek. His thumb lowering to trace your plump lips he loved so much.

Love. He loved you. And if his mother taught him anything, you do any and everything for those you love.

“I can’t do that. You need someone to take care of you like only I can. You didn’t even check your windows before you went to bed sweetheart.” You can’t fight the tears now fully letting them flow as your future vanishes before your eyes.

“Hey it’s okay, I’m here now,” he coos. Those arms you once fantasized about now burning against your skin for a different reason. “No one’s separating us again.”

[kyogre-blue]

Hello again. Thank you so much for indulging me. Warning: the following answer is long.

Tbh I'm very fond of a majority of characters from Mondstadt (except Diona, who is my least favourite in the whole game). I thought the prologue was done pretty well, tho story wise it does seem to go a bit downhill from there.

I love Venti, Childe, Zhongli and Diluc (when I saw his outfit with the high ponytail my brain went brrr). I like Childe's backstory in particular but I find it so disheartening that half the fandom seems to seriously loath him. I find Diluc interesting as a character (I'm also hoping to get him, but till now no luck. Hopefully i won't have to wait two years :(() I also find Shenhe pretty cool.

For 4 stars I really like Xingqiu, Beidou, Thoma, and Layla. I like both their personalities and their playstyles. I also like Gorou, but just how he looks, since I actually haven't gotten to him yet.

As for ships I like Zhongven. This one came from the left field, but I honestly think it's my favourite. I like the dynamic (the canon crumbs, as well as what I think it would look like) between the two of them, as well as the fact that both of them are broke gods. Ngl I also enjoy that in lore, they are some of the oldest and most powerful characters. I like the idea that they could destroy the world if they banded together, but choose not to bc they enjoy drinking, and the finer thing in life too much. I also like Zhongchi, Chongqiu, Kaeluc (I need more canonical interactions between the two of them) and Cynonahri. And I know what you mean abt the interactions between Venti and Diluc. I like them either as platonic or as romantic, though I haven't found any good fanfic of the two of them.

I do also like Chilumi, but i've also avoided the fanfics.

(From the unreleased characters, just from how they look I like Pantalone and Arlecchino.)

Sorry for the long essay. I'm super excited to talk abt my favourites.

Also what's your opinion on weapon banners? Should I pull? Did you pull? Till now I've gotten pretty well with 4 stars and even a few 3 stars, but I'm wondering if having a 5 star limited weapon is better.

Nice! It's good to like characters. Zhongven is definitely one of the more colorful interactions in the game, so I can definitely see the appeal. I'm just not super fond of Zhongli on the whole, so I'm not exactly looking for more ships with him. I just like zhongchi for the fanfic melodrama lol.

For the weapon banner, I would honestly recommend against it. I've pulled on it, but purely because "my faves should have the bestest drip," so Childe got Polar Star, Noelle got Redhorn, Venti got Elegy (would prefer Skyward Harp, but I doubt we'll get a rate up of it for a long time, perhaps never again). Xiao got Scarlet Sands in the process, but we don't talk about that.

In general, there is very little benefit to doing so. Yes, the BIS 5 star weapons can increase the characters' damage, but there are many cases where a specific 4 star or even 3 star can come quite close, without needing to risk gacha. And you'll slowly accumulate most of the 4 stars just from the other banners. 5 stars are also super annoying to level, since they need more resources.

My weapon recommendations would actually be like this:

Make sure to get every event weapon you can, including refines. Even the ones that look like they're useless to you right now. You can skip levelling them if you're very short on resources, but that 1.5x bonus on EXP is very useful if you can manage it. I skipped Dodoco Tales back in the day, and I regret it now.

Favonius weapons are extremely useful, so I would suggest keeping at least two separate copies. Depending on your characters, you might benefit from even three copies. Refine them only after you separate out those 2-3.

Sac weapons are similar, though refining them decreases the time interval between triggering the effect, so in some cases it may be worth to prioritize refining a single copy enough to be shorter than the character's skill cooldown. Eg, Xingqiu generally wants R3 Sac Sword (iirc, didn't check the numbers) because that's when the cooldown on the sword passive becomes shorter than his skill cooldown, so you can trigger it every rotation.

Keep at least one R5 copy of every 3 star weapon, just in case. You'll probably want multiple copies of Thrilling Tales, at that. The standout 3 stars are generally Thrilling Tales, Black Tassel, sometimes White Tassel, sometimes Slingshot, sometimes Raven's Bow, Harbinger of Dawn (sword). Their passives are so strong that, on characters who do not care too much about the lower base attack, they can match or exceed certain 4 stars or even 5 stars.

Yes, there are 4 stars you can ONLY get from the weapon banners: the Lithic series (mid at best), the Watasumi series (ok but situational), and now the... Tulaytullah series (the Sumeru ones, can be good but nothing terribly outstanding). However, you don't really need them. None of them are just that amazing.

The thing about the weapon banner is that there will always be five 4 stars on rate up. You thought the odds for 4 star character finishing were bad? It's worse for 4 star weapons.

Additionally, there are always two 5 stars on rate up, and the way Fate points work, you're only guaranteed the one you want after losing TWICE. The pity is at 80, but that is still approx 65x3=195 rolls, more than a guaranteed 5 star character.

Is a weapon that will give you maaaaybe 5-10% increased DPS worth giving up multiple 5 star characters?

It's up to you, but generally not.

If you do decide to pull, there are these criteria I would check:

Do you have some use for BOTH rate up 5 star weapons? Because I got Memory of Dust while going for Polar Star and lol. It's been gathering dust since then.

How much does your future 5 star weapon haver actually benefit from the weapon? The most infamous case is Kokomi, whose signature catalyst is not always even her best option and is barely an upgrade in only one of her multiple roles. Some characters have better lower rarity options than others, and if they don't benefit as much, it's better to pass on the 5 star.

What are the 4 stars? Fishing for them won't end well, but if you're going for a 5 star, you're going to be getting a lot of... probably two of them, given how luck seems to work. If two of them are Bell and Eye of Perception, that's... not very appealing.

As a final reminder, the epitomized path points do NOT carry over between weapon banners. If you are planning to pull, it's better to be ready to go all 200 pulls in.

Good luck!

[dihalect]

so. i am in a masters program in [computer science specialty]. we have an option to do a thesis in our final semester. and a friend of mine wants to do one. it's by far the best option for their academic career. they have an excellent idea for it, and a professor who's enthusiastic about advising it. the problem is, that professor is in the computer science department, not [computer science specialty]. and according to the current department chair, that's completely unheard of. absolutely can't have a non-[specialty]-department professor advise a [specialty] student. (never mind that the [computer science specialty] department is a part of the computer science department.)

thing is. current department chair simply does not like this friend, because of a bullshit academic disagreement. she DOES, however, like me. i have oodles of rapport with her. i have half a mind to ask her if i could do a thesis like the one my friend wants to, just to see how she responds.

[dreamkidddream]

Hey, for your 800 special, could you write a Megumi Fushiguro with Prompt 13 - Accidental confession, please? Thanks!! 💞

Did y’all see the movie yet cause OMGGGGG IT WAS SO GOOD‼️‼️ and the end credits song>>>>>>😩 okay sorry for rambling lmao. Also just noticed that Megumi had different eye colors (blue in the anime and green in the manga), so I just went with the manga (and also cause I like green). Reader is gender neutral!

CW: minor language

“Accidental Confession” Trope with Megumi!

Dream’s 800 Follower Special 📖

“i just don’t get wht u like so much abt him (Y/N)!”

“I mean I get it but at the same time…I don’t. He’s kinda boring ngl”

You shouldn’t have to explain yourself- but if this is the hill you die on, then this is the hill you die on, proudly. Defending your crush on Megumi was the mission right now, and you will succeed.

“Megumi is not boring- just say you have bad taste in men and go”

You didn’t know where to start- it was just so much to say. Megumi is just so pretty that even thinking about it now has you distracted. You were so jealous of how his eyelashes frame his emerald eyes that you would get lost in so much, the walks back to the dorms that you would cherish so much, how your heart would race at the rare chance of seeing him smile- you feel so childish kicking your feet and rolling around in your bed at the butterflies in your stomach. Were you being clowned in your group chat on a daily basis? Yes, but it was worth it to feel the high that he always gave you.

You ending up getting a text from Megumi. Him texting this late wasn’t new, but it didn’t stop your heart from skipping a beat. Here you were, grinning ear to ear as you and Megumi just talked about anything- upcoming missions, Yuji and Nobara sharing one brain cell, Gojo being Gojo- just anything that came to mind. You kept switching back between his messages and the group chat, still justifying your feelings in one and annoying the person in the other.

With graduation nearing, so was the window for you to confess, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Every time you thought about it, you could only imagine the worst case scenarios and your stomach would twist and turn at them. You couldn’t risk pushing him away, but you would never forgive yourself if you didn’t tell him. He’s a powerful sorcerer- no doubt he’ll get sent overseas for missions like Yuta was- and you can’t live with the regret of never knowing what it could’ve been if you did tell him. Why did love have to be so confusing?

Well you didn’t have to worry anymore, as that day came sooner than expected- and to your horror.

“LOOK I can’t help it if I’m in love with Megumi okay??”

“…”

“Is this a joke?”

“HAHA very funny- y’all were just clowning me and calling me a simp for Megs. You guys tell me to shut up everytime I profess my love for him lol so why would this be a joke”

“(Y/N).”

“Are you being serious right now?”

“This isn’t some kind of prank?”

“Did Yuji put you up to this?”

“Look I joke about a lot of stuff but loving him is not on that list and never will be y’all know that”

“…”

The bubbles kept appearing and disappearing until they were gone. Why weren’t they responding? Now you were starting to feel annoyed-

Until your phone vibrated once more and your mix of annoyance and confusion turned into sheer and utter dread.

Those messages did not appear in the group chat- instead they were sent to the one person that was never suppose to see them.

Oh no.

It felt like an ice cold bucket of water poured over right and seeped into your veins. You couldn’t move, only staring in terror at the fact that you made the one mistake that could ruin your life. It fully didn’t process until you saw that he did read the message- and that the read receipt was from more than ten minutes ago. Meaning he saw it- Megumi Fushiguro now knows that you like him as more than just a close friend, and hasn’t responded.

You wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole- even getting swallowed by a curse sounds better than having to face this! Maybe if you ask now, you can beg Gojo to send you to wherever Yuta is at- anywhere that wasn’t here.

But trying to joke about it didn’t stop tears of frustration welling in your eyes. How could you be so stupid? Not only did you make things awkward between you, but now it’s a chance that you could’ve lost him forever, no longer having that special bond and instead having to distance yourselves because of your carelessness. Now you’re being rejected and losing someone dear to you in the process, and it’s all your fault-

Your phone was vibrating and audibly gasped. The phone felt like it was burning your hand and you were so close to throwing your phone against the wall. The screen displayed a photo of you and Megumi together, him looking away while you pulled at his cheeks, a bright smile donning your face and a light pink donning his cheeks. This had to be your favorite photo, and you would have continued to admire it if you didn’t remember that he was calling you. You almost threw your phone at the wall.

You didn’t want to answer it- you wanted to go to sleep and just pretend that any of this never happened, that this was all some sort of nightmare. Maybe you could play it off as a joke after all, like a “wrong text” prank or something? It could work- but at the same time, you know that it wouldn’t be fair to him.

You felt sick when you tapped the green icon.

Your mouth got instantly dry, your hands were sweating, the prickling sensation in your skin only worsen-

“Hello?”

“Um…hey, Megumi.”

“Hey.”

Then it was silent again. Your mind was racing trying to figure out what to do, what to say- should you play dumb? Should you lie and say that it was a joke? Should you just apologize and cut ties with him now to save him the trouble-

“Are you really telling the truth?”

This was the moment that could change everything. Anything that you say now will change the course of your relationship, whether for the best or the worst.

“Do you-“ You heard him swallow, and you can just imagine how conflicted he looked right now- how embarrassed he probably is. You would only catch him like this a handful of times, and while you would savor it and try to tease him, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it in this moment. “Do you really feel that way about me?”

Your words were caught in your throat, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He sounds so…nervous?

“I-“

Now or never, (Y/N).

You steeled your nerves and sealed your fate.

“I do. I really do. I just- I was going to tell you but I didn’t want to mess anything up between us. I’m so sorry if I ruined our friendship and I understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore.” You rambled on, trying to calm your shaky breathing and put on a brave face, even if this is tearing your heart apart piece by piece.

Megumi didn’t say anything for what seemed like forever, and you just wanted to scream into your pillow and cry yourself to sleep. You felt numb, and you could only think about how you both would practically be strangers because of this-

“Can I come see you?”

You would be lying if you didn’t feel a spark of heat shoot through you, only to be replaced by the miserable feeling. He just wants to talk things through one last time before parting ways- you didn’t want to do that, you never will- but if it meant being able to soak in the warmth of being in love with him for the final time, then so be it.

—

You weren’t expecting him to get here so fast.

Standing outside of your dorm was Megumi. His appearance was a bit disheveled, like he just threw something on and came as soon as possible, yet he still looked graceful as ever. You started to believe that maybe he did rush here, especially with how pink his cheeks were.

“Can I come in?”

You wordlessly stepped aside to let him by, the door clicking shut. The atmosphere felt tense and it was too quiet, and you had no idea how to fix it, or if there was a way to fix it. Just get on with it please Megumi, you thought. For the both of our sakes.

You kept averting your eyes from his own, not wanting to get sucked back into something you find yourself lost in every day. Until he cleared his throat and said your name so softly that your heart almost stopped. You took a deep breath in, and locked eyes with his own, balling your fists into your shirt.

“I-“

You couldn’t stop squeezing your eyes shut, not wanting to cry in front of him.

“I feel the same way.”

What? You didn’t hear him correctly, did you?

Your eyes shot open, mouth agape, disbelief written across your face. He felt the same way?

“It didn’t feel right to tell you this over the phone.” Megumi rubbed the back of his neck, now averting his own gaze from yours. He cursed under his breath, and his face scrunched up, “And I thought Yuji put you up to this, so I needed to see for myself that you weren’t lying.”

“Why would Yuji have anything to do with this?”

“Because- he knew that I had feelings for you and wouldn’t stop bothering me about it. I thought this was his plan that he wouldn’t shut up about.” He sucked his teeth, and it sounded like he called him an idiot- or himself with how frustrated he looked.

You couldn’t believe it- Megumi had feelings for you this whole time? He wasn’t rejecting you?

You weren’t going to lose him.

“I shouldn’t have waited so long to say something but- I just needed to be sure.” He trailed off, and his cheeks look even rosier than before. Now would be the time that you teased him, but you could only think about how much your heart was fluttering, the warmth making you feel like you were on cloud nine.

Your feet carried you before your mind processed it, and you ran straight into Megumi’s arms. He let out a grunt, and you’re sure his face has to be too red to try and hide anymore, but he made sure to catch you. His hold on you was light, but you could feel how much he stiffened up.

With each breath he took, he relaxed. You could feel how quick his heart was beating (just as quick as yours) in your ears, but yours was the pure euphoria you’ve were feeling just being in his arms finally.

There wasn’t much left to be said, and even if the future remained unknown, you didn’t want to leave his side ever.

And giving you a light squeeze, Megumi found himself feeling the same.

[dufferpuffer]

I know this isn't quite the topic of your post - and you're 100% right: Severus has either the patience/restraint of a fucking saint or the self worth of a piece of dirt But from Dumbledore's side... I think he is in some pain here. If Snape slapped him I think he would accept it. Dumbledore could have stopped Sirius Black from going to Azkaban. He KNEW Sirius. He KNEW he didn't like the Death Eaters, he KNEW he wouldn't have sold out the Potters... and yet he doubted him. He doubted his innocence and let him be sent away. He didn't vouch for him like he vouched for Severus. Why...? "‘My memory is as good as it ever was, Severus,’ said Dumbledore quietly.” Dumbledore has a history with boys from unhappy lives. Boys stifled by their upbringings, who are talented and intelligent, who are quick witted and charismatic... who get up to a little more mischief than they should. Who always seem to end up with some blood on their hands... and bat their long eyelashes to get away with it. Handsome young men who seem like they just need a gentle, loving guiding hand... Albus had been bitten twice. By Gellert and by Tom. I think he remembered very very well how close Severus had come to death, how close Remus had come to being exposed... and then James, Lily and Peter were dead. All at once. So he decided not to risk making the mistake of trusting the clever, sneaky handsome boy a third time. He held his tongue. ((theres a good post on here saying that Dumbledore only ever called 3 people handsome: Gellert, Tom and Sirius - and it changed my life ngl)) But I he realizes that mistake now. He is incredibly sharp, but he is still just a man - one given the power to make huge decisions... but often he just has to gamble.

The gamble with Sirius didn't pay off. He allowed a boy to be tortured for 12 years based on his mistakes. His memory is as good as it ever was: a cheeky, talented young man who loved his friends more than life itself... and he sent him to rot rather than risk extending a gentle, loving, guiding hand. He chose fear over love at exactly the wrong moment. Can he do nothing right...?

“‘Sirius Black showed he was capable of murder at the age of sixteen,’ he breathed. ‘You haven’t forgotten that, Headmaster? You haven’t forgotten that he once tried to kill me?’

‘My memory is as good as it ever was, Severus,’ said Dumbledore quietly.”

like are you kidding me? are you being fr rn? snape is a better person than i am because if someone said that about my bullying and abuse i would’ve gotten scrappy and scary. victim of abuse that he knows about and his best teacher and the only one who tried to protect anyone or fix anything and is basically the reason lupin had wolfsbane at all that all just got thrown back in his face in the worst ways possible. i would’ve been in jail ten minutes later actually. holy shit man

[write-like-wright]

Should you date them: Ace Attorney rival prosecutor edition

Miles Edgeworth:

depends on what Edgeworth we're talking about

absolutely do NOT date Bratworth

disrespects women

doesn't realise short people have feelings

wears that gaudy af jacket

doesn't want to date you anyways, is in a committed relationship with the law, baby

original trilogy Edgeworth is a bit harder to gauge

very emotionally constipated

generally awkward to be around

expect many unintentional staring contests

simultaneously cocky and insecure

this is the kind of a relationship you enter thinking you can "fix" him

spoiler: you can't

his fashion sense is getting better though

gotta be really buff if he walks up all those stairs to his office

you'd have to compete with a ton of other women and who wants to deal with Wendy Oldbag? scary stuff

he's probably still not all that interested in dating but is also starting to warm up to general human contact lmao

attempt to date at your own risk, though I'd advise against it (maybe casually drop hints you're a Steel Samurai fan? idk)

Chief prosecutor Edgeworth though? HELL YES, BABEY

that man has matured and gotten himself some therapy

can actually recognize human emotions!!

that new coat and the glasses?? mwah chef's kiss

a (childless) DILF

less subtle in his weebdom and who doesn't love a confident man

has lots of cool friends who'd like you

still a bit aloof so have patience

but hell yes, date, hell MARRY him idc

Franziska von Karma

Franzy is a baby but won't ever admit it

somehow even more emotionally constipated than her "little" brother

do you like strong, mean women? me too, bro

if someone is mean to you she will wreck them

absolutely walks up to the counter at McDonald's like "excuse me, you fool, they asked for no pickles"

needs gentle reminders to be polite to people

would call you by your full name all the time and it's probably more than a little weird

boy do I have good news for you if you're into BDSM

pretends not to care - cares a lot

date but also, like, go to couples counselling for a bit

Diego Armando/Godot

Diego is hot and he knows it

very, VERY cocky

like, kind of a douche but his heart is generally in the right place

tries to be macho

expect lots and lots of coffee dates... like, five a day lol

would always have coffee ready for you in the morning... afternoon... evening... 3 am... whenever you'd like it, basically

calls you kitten

calls everyone kitten though

calls Edgeworth kitten kinda hot ngl

probably kinda overprotective

very supportive, though

a bit of a himbo

probably never sleeps

date if you like hot douchey guys basically

Godot really is the ungodly cool guy with a mask

daft punk enthusiast

has many, many weird rules

more douchey than ever

would kill for you

ngl he kinda creeps me out, I wouldn't recommend it

Klavier Gavin

yes, you should date Klavier

not even a question

a literal rock star

such a nice boy

kinda questionable fashion, but he makes it work somehow

eurotrash

be ready to deal with the fangirls

would be worth it in the end

hot af

would write songs for/about you

he's probably the smoothest bitch alive

would take you on trips all the time

he's loaded, expect fancy gifts

probably spends too much time on Instagram, tho

Simon Blackquill

baby Blackquill is 100% boyfriend material

what a nice young man

weeb deep respect for the Japanese culture

honorable intentions

would treat you so well

breaks up with you without an explanation one day and disappears for like, 10 years

AA5 and onwards Blackquill is... an interesting one

listens almost exclusively to traditional Japanese music and My Chemical Romance

probably has a hard time adjusting to life outside

needs lots and lots of therapy

kinda scary at times

would probably need discipline and rules in his day to day life after everything

like, set his bedtime or something

can be a jerk and tease you affectionately

can also be a jerk in general, please tell him off, he's scaring the wendy's drive-through employee

go bird watching with him

I would date him but I understand why you wouldn't

he's hot

Nahyuta Sahdmadhi

gorgeous, dahling

a literal disney prince

tries to impress you with his knowledge of your culture and it's both endearing and embarrassing

what's crackalackin homies = how do you do fellow kids

massive foodie

kinda ranty tho

can go for 8 hours straight

unfortunately, i'm talking about sermons

can be pretty insensitive at times

spends a lot of time with his partnered detective, kinda sus

at the very least date him to steal his haircare products

Barok van Zieks

what a scandalous man

have you seen those curves

more breast and thigh than a bucket of kfc

built like an avenger

very hot

probably unaware of it, though

what are emotions

family man

spends too much on "wine"

you suspect he may be a vampire

incredibly meticulous

condescending

openly racist

like, date him after years of therapy and several racial/cultural sensitivity workshops or something

in the meantime flash him your ankle to test the waters if you're feeling extra saucy

Bonus: Kazuma Asogi

*smacks him* this bad boy can fit so much emotional trauma inside

literally good at everything

stumbles over his words at times, though

hypes you up so much for the lamest of reasons

confident boy

so hot-headed

goes from 0 to 100 and back in a matter of seconds

very honorable

do NOT doubt his ability to get you off or he'll make you choke on it

cute laugh

if you say you wouldn't date him you're lying to yourself and even worse you're lying to me i'm so sorry for looking at your boyfriend ryuu

[altruistic-meme]

AFTG fic recs

Hi all! I just wanted to share some of my all-time favorite fanfics for aftg, for no real reason other than I want more people to read them and send their love to the authors :) 

Under a readmore because it got. A little long. But please enjoy!

WIPs

Dangerous Habits by LovelyLittleGrim ( @lovelylittlegrim )

Andrew has run into problems while on undercover jobs before. None of those problems were anything like the troublesome runaway that is one Nathaniel Wesninski

Aka: the fic where Andrew is undercover as a hitman for hire and Neil is the guy who hires him. Things get complicated from there.

Undercover Andrew? BAMF Neil? Hitman AU?? Absolutely. I’m in love. The story is just *chef kisses*

Chapters: 8/9

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, past rape/non-con, Drake Spear (who is his own warning), Butcher Neil, 

--

Negotiations by elesary ( @elesary )

This is what Andrew Minyard knows: his brother is dead, killed by a petty Raven prince who has never learned to keep his hands off of Andrew's things. His brother's daughters are his responsibility, a job that is made infinitely harder when their shitty grandparents want custody. Nathaniel Wesninski is a liar, but he might be the only way to avenge Aaron and protect his nieces. All Andrew has to do is watch Nathaniels - Neil's- back as he carves out his own life and identity from everyone who thinks they own him.

Andrew has always been good at upholding his end of the bargain, has he finally found someone willing to uphold theirs?

This fic has got me fucked up, honestly. I’m emotional over it. It’s fantastic.

Chapters: 11/?

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, attempted sexual assault, Butcher Neil,

--

the upper hand by plantelty ( @plantelty  )

Shortly after losing his mother, Neil arrives in the small town of Palmetto, South Carolina, alone in the world and with an impossible plan to carry through.

At the age of eighteen, Andrew ends up helping a boy stage his own death.

-

Just two fucked up boys learning to trust each other during the course of a summer, but also: multiple references to songs, twinyard angst (Nicky tries his best), The Plotting of Neil Josten's Gruesome Demise, and shit hitting the fan in a variety of ugly ways!

The cliffhanger has got me on the edge of my seat, but it is 100% worth the read and the wait for the last chapter!! 

Chapters: 10/11

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Canon typical violence, 

--

The Butcher’s House by Fire_Bear ( @fire-bear )

Andrew thought something was odd with the house the Foxes had to move into after their Athletes' House had been burnt down. He just wasn't prepared for what was actually wrong with it.

For this was a house full of monsters.

Ghost story! Ghost story! Ghost story! I literally think about this fic every other day, it’s fantastic. 

Chapters: 6/?

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: character death (major or minor is unclear), injuries, 

--

Promise of an Unbroken Boy by elesary ( @elesary​ )

Neil is caught by the police with Mary's burning body and is sent to juvie in Oakland where he is assigned to share a cell with one Andrew Doe, who promises him Exy, if only Neil will tell him all of his secrets. With no access to tinted contacts and hair dye, he agrees, it's only a matter of time until he's killed after all. What does he have to lose?

But Andrew's found someone who knows what a promise means, and he'll be damned if he lets that go without a fight.

Ngl this is definitely in my very top favorites -- I LOVE the idea of Neil and Andrew meeting pre-series, and this fic just BLEW my expectations for that plotline out of the waters

Chapters: 14/?

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, Underage, attempted rape/non-con, canon-typical violence, 

~~~~~~~~~

Complete

The Nameless Monster by kanekicure ( @kanekicure )

Nathaniel Wesninski wants nothing more than to see his father dead and buried. But when his father promises him the title of The Butcher, Nathaniel quickly realizes that his destiny of following in his father's footsteps is closer than ever before.

So of course, when he gets forced to go undercover for the Baltimore police, he starts seeing what living could truly be.

-

Andrew Minyard is a newly recruited police officer for the worst precinct in Baltimore, who is dedicated on hunting down the notorious Butcher and his unnamed underling. But when Neil Josten is thrown into his midst as his civilian consultant; he starts to realize some things don't quite appear as they seem.

I love the story telling -- the secret identities, the plotting, everything.

Chapters: 14/14

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, Butcher Neil, implied/referenced rape/non-con, implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced slef-harm (I believe there is a scene that is somewhat detailed on this subject), some characters also get drugged at one point, 

-- 

that’s just something people say by nanatsuyu ( @theoctopusnods )

Neil makes the mistake of stealing the wrong car. Andrew makes the mistake of offering a ride to a liar. They both make the mistake of turning the whole affair into a road trip ‘home.’

Gonna be honest; the summary does not give a big idea as to what is in store and i am SO GLAD I gave this one a try so i’m telling you that you will be too

Chapters: 24/24

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse, panic attacks (somewhat grahic descriptions of)

--

The Story After You by kanekicure ( @kanekicure )

Andrew Minyard does not understand how Riko Moriyama landed Neil Wesninski.

How the snot-nosed, small dick, rich brat, second son of the Moriyama family who also just so happened to own the largest EXY gear and merchandiser company in the world “RAVEN” - had landed smart mouthed, quick witted, stupidly blue eyed Wesninski, was beyond him. Well, unless Wesninski was a gold digger, but Andrew doubted it.

-

Or; how Andrew Minyard says he doesn't get into messy situations, until he meets Neil and suddenly he is in the most messiest possible situation ever imagined in his life - oh and also, he might be becoming a homewrecker.

Ok I am behind bc I haven’t read the final chapter of this but!! I love the story, it’s very emotional and moving, and I love the characterization in it.

Chapters: 10/10

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Abusive Riko/Neil, abusive relationship, implied/referenced rape/non-con, implied/reference child abuse, implied/referenced self-harm, graphic depictions of violence, some descriptions of injuries/scarring, 

-- 

This Complicated Life by 5a5b5p5 ( @andrewsbutterflyknife )

“This is exactly why I don’t want you and Andrew to meet,” Aaron says grumpily. “You two would get along far too well.”

Neil grins. “I just like pissing you off,” he says, “It’s not my fault your brother does such a good job at it.”

—

Neil doesn’t expect much from his Sophomore year of college, but when he becomes a waiter at the Palmetto Bistro, his life gets a whole lot more interesting. As it turns out, maintaining friendships new and old as well as navigating an interesting relationship with the head chef of the restaurant—who just so happens to be his best friend’s twin brother—is a lot more complicated than he’d thought it would be.

A much more light-hearted fic than most of the others! Includes a secret relationship, and also chef Andrew >>

Chapters: 10/10

Rating: Mature

Warnings: 

--

When I Fade, Keep Me in Your Memory by demesh 

Neil Josten has a secret: he can flicker out of existence.

He can vanish with the turn of a thought; click his fingers, and suddenly he’s not there anymore. Invisible and untouchable, he becomes a living ghost.

Having promised his mother never to let his ability go, Neil teeters the line between faded and real, a person and an echo. He can’t risk getting hurt.

But then, one day, someone sees him when they shouldn’t be able to.

 A (flower-shop) AU about how a faded and lonely Neil finds it in him to become someone real.

Another fic that I need to catch up on ;; but anyway it’s amazing and I love Neil’s ability in it, it’s so well explained and well-written about

Chapters: 12/12

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: mentions of past abuse, panic attacks

--

12 Ways to Woo a Minyard by NikNak22 ( @knickknacksandallthat )

Neil is a math nerd who, by a stroke of dumb luck, falls into a group of friends that are the closest thing to family he’s ever had. So, when he tells them about his new mysterious crush, he shouldn’t be surprised how immediately they come up with a plan to help win them over. One they insist that if Neil follows it, he’ll have them falling for him in no time. But things don’t always go to plan – or do they?

Nicky wants to set him up with someone else. Matt and Jeremy are confused but supportive. Allison and Seth offer lewd suggestions, while Dan does her best to keep everyone in line. Jean and Renee know something, Aaron doesn’t really care, and Kevin just wants Neil to join the lacrosse team.

But one thing’s for certain – whether Neil’s successful or not, everyone’s got money riding on this.

The romance-trope-filled fanfic of my dreams. Sometimes you just need a fic of pure joy -- this is that fic. 

Chapters: 14/14

Rating: Mature

Warnings: 

--

finders keepers by moonix ( @annawrites ​ )

Andrew meets Nathaniel through a scavenger hunt app. As their team takes part in a hunt that sends each of them to creepy, abandoned places alone to solve clues and gain points, Andrew and Nathaniel begin a little treasure hunt of their own. The anonymity of getting to know each other in small increments, never meeting face-to-face, allows them a level of intimacy neither are used to. Meanwhile Renee’s friend Neil is acting weird whenever Andrew shows up…

This was one of the first fics I read for aftg!! And BOY what a great start!! All of the little pieces and parts that work together, and just the scavenger hunt itself is fantastic! (I also REALLY wanna know if there is an app like this out there because I would be down to do that)

Chapters: 8/8

Rating: Mature

Warnings: (these all come from the author:) “mentions of historical abuse in a mental asylum, mentions of suicide, mentions of murder and kidnapping, morbid facts, creepy abandoned places including a haunted house at a theme park with disturbing rooms, special appearance of a creepy clown doll, fatphobia and some introspection on body image/complicated relationship with food, mention of self harm scars”

-----

Scared to Live (But I’m Scared to Die) by Major_816 ( @major816 )

Neil Josten goes to the Nest for Andrew, but he stays for a lot more.

~

"I'm sorry Coach," he muttered.

"For what kid?" Wymack shifted. "You've got to give me something to work with here."

Wymack watched the thin traces of sorrow as paper exchanged hands and he was looking down at a contract with the Edgar Allan Raven's.

"I signed them Coach, I'm sorry."

~

The one where Neil doesn't come back from Winter Break.

It is VERY dark, and is one of very few fics that I have actually been almost unable to read one of the scenes, so DEFINITELY pay attention to the warnings -- both these, and the ones provided for each individual chapter. I did go through the fic to collect as many warnings as I could find in the chapter warnings, but be sure to take care of yourself.

Chapters: 36/36

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: rape/non-con elements, implied/referenced rape/non-con, discussions of rape/non-con, canon-typical violence, graphic descritions, physical abuse, panic attacks, descriptions of injuries (often graphic), psychological warfare, dissociating, psychological torture, physical torture, use of knives, alcoholism/alcohol abuse, pain-induced delirium, rape/non-con, emotional self-separation, suicidal ideation/thoughts of suicide, emotional distress (which sums up the whole fic and also me while reading it), handcuffs/chains used as restraints, referenced/implied abuse towards animals, vomitting, begging, excessive use of painkillers, drowning, waterboarding, physical restraint, mutilation of an animal, mild hallucinations, non-con drugging, sleep deprivation, starvation, humiliation, the Butcher, 

Also one of the first fics I read and 100% my absolute favorite fic!!! Which is adfjhsd a little worrying, considering, but it is what it is. Anyway. This fic absolutely wrecked me, and while it is technically complete, there is a sequel in the works! So! But I am so so excited for the sequel, and I am working on rereading this. It’s amazing. 1000/10.

[josnhoes]

ohh what about something like yandere immortal volo finding reader again in the modern day after they go back to their time 👀

I love the concept of immortal Volo. Ngl I missed the yandere part at first and almost went ham writing a long pinning ficlet of Volo suffering. I'm very glad I waited until after I slept to start writing lol.

Content warning Yandere, Volo is rich due to money investments and scams (he does the latter for fun), abduction, stalking-ish, obsessive thoughts, desperation, hate to love, Volo pov, Volo has dilusions about reader being Arceus' child, worshipping reader, Volo murders a man with a gun

-------

Volo always viewed himself as a deep thinker, in this modern Era he spent most of his time thinking and planning for something he would never have. Originally he had craved God hood, but after experiencing immortality for all it was he no longer craved it. No he craved You. You who had hundreds of years ago seared yourself into his soul and defeated him; he'd hated you for much longer than he would like to admit. But over the years the truth had come to him, you weren't Arceus' chosen no you were their child, the true next God. Of course the pokemon God would send their own most beloved child to him to guide him, and he realized far too late. He'd let you slip through his fingers and he'd yet to find you again, he had no doubt though he'd find you soon.

The faith he'd find you eventually fueled him in actually carving a life for himself. When he found you he had to be ready to provide for you, to shower you in anything and everything you could ever want or need to show he was worthy of you. It wasn't hard really to become a faceless billionaire, he had the time and the smarts. The hard part had been securing a home worthy of you and creating a room you would like until the time came when you both would share a room. As humbled by time as he had been Volo knew no other was worthy to be at your side, his beloved divine deserved only the most loyal and loving consort. He dare not call himself your husband with out your permission, he had to earn that.

He made sure everything was perfect for you, and yet you still had yet to reveal yourself to him. Part of Volo nagged at him that you would be just like your parent in that way, he had squander his chance to have you with his blind need to carve a better, perfect world. But the blond did his best to ignore that. You'd show yourself eventually, be it as you were or reborn he'd find you.

Idly he'd flip through the TV channels looking for a hint of you. He didn't expected today to be any different but once again he was proven wrong. A news story from the unova region News with your face filled his screen and he turned it up. Apparently you had resurfaced along side Ingo reuniting the twins he'd accidently torn apart. You had been champion of Unova yet this information had managed to evade him. Your status and now fame would make the next parts hard, but he'd manage he always did.

He debated retrieving you himself, the hospital you were being kept in didn't have the best security. Volo could easily slip in as a guest and slip out with you in his arms. But the risk of him being tracked down and loosing you was not worth the instant gratification of holding you. He wanted you forever not briefly. So he hired a man skilled in this kind of work.

When the hitman threw you at his feet Volo felt rage bubble inside him but kept his well practiced smile on. "A little rough with my guest aren't you?"

The hitman huffed as he glared down at you on the floor squirming, "They got bite, I better be getting double our original price for this shit."

Volo was pleased to see recognition in your eyes as you noticed him, "Volo?" You asked unsure and confused, your voice music to his very core.

"Yes my love? It's been so long hasn't it? I-"

He was cut off by the thug again, "Runion later payment now or I might slip the champion's location."

Rage flared even hotter in Volo, who was this idiot to threaten him and his divine, threaten their future and safety?! Before the hyped up henchman could do anything Volo moved; a gun swiftly pulled from a hidden holster and a bang rang out.

The aftermath was instant you were screaming in terror as the other man collapsed dead in an instant. He wasn't surprised sadly, you despite all your power always sought to protect life not end it; but he'd learned long ago sometimes death was necessary to ensure your goals.

He shushed you cupping your face in his hands, "Shhhh my angel it's okay. You're safe now I promise."

You never had a chance to fight back as he took you to your new room. The entire time Volo was telling you all his plans, how hard he worked to make this island perfect for you, and how with a spine chilling certainty you were never leaving him again.

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

“I’ve been doing stupid things

Wilder than I’ve ever been

You’ve become my favorite sin

So let them keep, let them keep on talking.”

— Bad Decisions, Ariana Grande

A/N: laidese and germs.....i cannot feel my mfing fingers!!!!! but the filth is worth it 😌this is the longest piece i have ever written and i’m pretty proud of it! i put my heart and soul into this and the smut is.....pretty wild ngl! this is the first full-on sex scene i’ve written for them so it’s pretty long but who doesn’t love a long smut scene, amirite? it’s also the official introduction to Onyx and Nimbus into the demon!h universe so a round of applause for those two legends. Lucifer is mentioned in passing and i posted a face-claim for him, in case you were wondering what he looks like (he will be making appearances in the future so keep your eyes peeled for that). a little disclaimer, the Latin i used for the summoning spell i created is a very loose translation!! i did the best i could with google!! without further delay, here she is :D thank you so much for supporting my writing, feedback is not only greatly appreciated but also getting tattooed on my forehead, get ready for quite the ride, and i hope you enjoy!

masterlist : ask : more demon!harry

word count: 26k (i have no self-control oop)

content: a ton of domestic banter, a huge amount of fluff, two (2) make out sessions, demon!h putting that tongue piercing to good use, a load of filthy ass smut, him looking hot while doing some spells, and some dogs of course

preview:

Y/N’s attitude is one of timid guilt. “Isn’t that tapestry a sacred antique? Wouldn’t it be wrong to…y’know...?”

Harry belts out a disbelieving laugh. “Since when do you care about defiling satanic artifacts? Thought you’d be all for it.” 

She scowls. “Won’t Lucifer find out?” 

Her boyfriend rolls his eyes haphazardly, waving a hand weakly for emphasis before using it to push his disheveled curls away from his forehead. “I highly doubt it.” 

“I feel like he has a way of knowing everything, H.” 

“He does, most times. But,” he holds up his pinky symbolically, wiggling it around with a shit-eating grin curving his cupid’s bow, sing-songing. “I won’t tell if you won’t.” 

The raunchiness of it all is appealing to her urge to be rebellious— an urge he had instilled in her over the months they’d known one another. She reiterates her previous point, trying to convince herself more than anyone because it really is so unbelievably tempting. “It’s a risk, and it’s wrong.”

Harry fits her chin between his thumb and forefinger, ghosting his mouth over hers and blinking slowly, establishing a seductive hold. His whisper is warm and raspy, almost as if he’s trying to keep their shadows from eavesdropping. “That’s what makes it so fucking hot.” 

Y/N follows his lips, aiming to draw him into a kiss, but he pulls back, brows kinking in a mocking fashion. The action silently communicates its intended message: If you want a kiss, you have to give in to me.

or demon!harry wants to introduce angel!y/n to his hellhounds but an extremely sinful offer ends up postponing the summoning ritual 

///

Y/N’s having a stroke. 

She has never experienced one and, technically speaking, angels’ bodies are immune to all sickness and ailments given that they are just physical vessels for celestial energy. She’s probably just being dramatic. However, Y/N is pretty sure that what she is currently going through is most definitely classified as a stroke. 

Her palms are sweaty, her vision is blurring in and out of focus, she has a serious case of cottonmouth, her ears are ringing, her lungs are burning, and her heart is attempting to burst through her ribcage. According to what she has seen on television shows and commercials, as well as a quick search on WebMD, these strenuous sensations are the characteristics of a severe seizure. Or maybe a panic attack, at the least. 

The issue is that Y/N is the one inflicting this upon herself by overreacting, but she can’t seem to help it. Given the current situation, it’s not unusual that all her nerves are splintering and that her entire body has kicked into high gear. Any angel having to witness a satanic ritual would react the same exact way. 

It’s not so much Harry’s culture and practices that make her catastrophically uncomfortable, but it’s moreso the fact that she’s standing not even a full yard away as it all unfolds.

From the second Y/N and Harry had started dating, she was well aware of the consequences of their relationship. Apart from having to lie to her friends and family about why she had decided to extend her visit to earth into a semi-permanent moving-out, she’d also had to sacrifice a lot of the morals and ethics ingrained into her from the instant she had been created. Dismantling three thousand years worth of education and routine wasn’t necessarily a walk through the Garden of Eden. Y/N had no choice but to set aside her personal afflictions about her boyfriend’s lifestyle in order to make it work and though it had been a rocky start, everything she used to despise about demons had gradually integrated into her new status quo. 

She had learned to turn a blind eye when it came to Harry’s demonic dealings; she wasn’t by any means supportive of people selling their souls and condemning themselves to damnation, but God gave humans free will for a reason and it’s not any of her concern what they decide to do with it. Plus, according to what Harry had told her, demons have a certain monthly quota on how many souls they are required to collect and if he were to miss the mark, it would be a dead giveaway that something was out of the ordinary. Harry is one of Hell’s most prized businessmen— he’d been breaking records for centuries now— and if his numbers were to suddenly drop, rumors would no doubt cascade up the corporate ladder and make their way to a certain ill-tempered archangel’s ears. 

The last thing either of them needed is Lucifer sniffing around, particularly because it would give him ammo to lord over Y/N, which he’d unquestionably use to threaten her status in heaven. Her own personal worries aside, she has no idea what her father would do to Harry if he got wind of their forbidden connection and honestly, she would rather saw off her own wings than find out. 

There were too many risks involved in convincing her boyfriend to take the moral high road so instead, she kept her nose out of it all together. It's for the best. 

When it came to his other demonic duties, she made herself slightly more aware of them, despite wishing she didn’t have to. Duties such as mandatory business meetings— which doubled as satanic rituals— and his role as a professor of dark arts and lethal combat training to the upcoming generations of Hell. Y/N asked him endless questions about his responsibilities because she felt that being purposefully ignorant was selfishly stupid. Educating herself made it easier to understand Harry’s life and taught her not to judge him so harshly for the actions he partook. Hearing him speak about blood sacraments and swearing loyalty to someone she had been conditioned to hate made her mouth turn sour, almost like she’d swallowed a spoonful of brimstone dust, but she shouldered it because she loved him and when you love someone, you have to put aside your own biases in order to fully comprehend theirs. 

This had been Harry’s life for almost a millennia now and it’s not like he could bow out if he wanted— he’d sold his soul for the rest of eternity. Nothing could change that and she had to accept it. 

And though the logistics of it all made her stomach curdle, there was one primary concern that truly nicked her above everything: Harry’s safety. 

It mainly funneled down to the blood sacraments; the ceremony didn’t sit right with her for obvious reasons. There was just something so sickening about being required to participate in such an intrusive event and she doesn’t think it fair that he doesn’t have a choice. Harry assures her that it’s really nothing— a simple chore, at best— because he had been attending these occasions for decades now and was numb to their grotesqueness, but she can’t keep herself from prickling at the concept. Blood is so sacred— it’s a vital substance that all creatures have, humans, angels, and demons alike— and being forced to give it up to protect and stroke someone else’s ego is demeaning. 

From a hindsight perspective, Y/N thinks that’s why she’s so strung out and why she carries so much stress towards the spell Harry is about to cast— because it requires his blood. 

Y/N had seen Harry cast encanations plenty of times before and it never bothered her, mostly because all the sorcery she had seen was never anything to fear. Most of the magic he performed in front of her was harmless and innocent, which had surprised her since occultism was invented by Lucifer and anything that stemmed from him generally tended to be evil. 

But the witchcraft Harry showed her was pretty juvenile. An embarrassing nude situation with a binding spell and the little disappearance act with his Halloween costume. Setting his hot chocolate mug aflame to toast the marshmallows on top, and using his powers at the Party City store to “lightly” shove an old lady that had been rudely judging their close proximity. Using an invisible force to tug at her hair from across the room to be annoying, or teleporting her phone out of her hands at random times just to fuck with her. 

It was all benign, or so she thought. She knew there were more extreme forms of magic— it wasn’t referred to as the dark arts for the fun of it— but she had yet to experience anything drastic so she didn’t dwell in her head too much about it. 

Because Harry hadn’t exposed her to anything worth the horror, she had agreed to accompany him while he performed a ritual to summon his hellhounds to their apartment. She wasn’t necessarily keen on engaging with two five foot tall, red-eyed, bloody-mawed beasts, but from the way Harry had talked about them, she could tell they were important to him. 

He’d told her about how he had raised the hellhounds into adulthood since they had been spawned into existence as mere puppies, which obviously meant they had a deep bond spanning over centuries. Apart from that platonic connection, being their guardian had helped Harry get over the trauma that lingered from his death. It had been at the claws of a different hellhound, and it’s needless to say it had not been pleasant— the rough scarring running down the length of his chest can attest to that. Onyx and Nimbus (the second name he’d assigned ironically; it was a synonym for “halo,” and both he and the dog got quite the kick out of it) taught him to mend, and in return, he had taken them under his wing. They’d been inseparable for decades. A packaged deal, and considering Y/N was now a major part of his life, too, he wanted them to meet and get along. Or at least not try to kill each other on sight. 

Y/N had hesitantly agreed to letting the dogs stay at the flat, promising that she would do her best to form some type of civil relationship with them. She’s not sure how she would get used to two lethal canines casually milling around the kitchen, but she’d try awfully hard just to make Harry happy. Luckily, he wasn’t insensitive to her caution and explained that he would use magic to shape-shift his hounds into a more acceptable domestic form— “Probably pitbulls or labradors. Or German Shepherds! Those are pretty sick.” That consolation worked wonders for her peace of mind; it’d be easier to run from them without their ten foot leg-span advantage. 

Amidst Harry’s other reassurances, she also figured the spell wouldn’t be too harsh— he’d probably just chant some words in Latin and the dogs would pop up out of thin air— so she’d just shrugged her shoulder and agreed to be present. 

Much to the relief of her conscious, the initial setup had seemed as mild as usual. Harry had gathered a few select herbs, a rusted gold bowl with satanic glyphs carved into its circumstance, a matching muddler, and four stout candles, setting it all on the ground as he proceeded to move the coffee table off to the side for more space. He had extended a large tapestry over half of the living room, a giant gold pentagram painted over its expanse, weird symbols detailing each of its peaks. The piece had seemed ancient— it was faded and torn in certain places, mysterious dark stains splattered in others— and it made the back of her neck bristle for some unknown reason. 

Y/N had brushed it off. She should’ve expected to feel a bit uneasy— it was a fucking occult object. Any sane person would feel nervous around it. 

Harry, on the other hand, had been as carefree and nonchalant as always. Her boyfriend had dusted off the huge drapery, pinning down each corner with a different magical stone and a candle companion, whistling to the vague tune of his grandson’s newest single. Y/N found that incredibly amusing considering he never missed an opportunity to mention his hatred for the boy. Well, hate is a harsh word. Strongly dislike is more suitable, or so he would say. 

“Could never hate someone with my face. It’s too cute to hate.”

He just found his relative’s fame annoying. Harry had lived almost seven hundred years of his undead life without having to fret about his appearance or about people recognizing him, but then his descendant had decided to pursue a career in a world-renowned industry. Even worse, he had the nerve to be good at it, which had launched him to international stardom and condemned Harry— his uncanny doppelgänger— to suffer the irritating lookalike-induced consequences. As if the identical physical aspect wasn’t enough, his grandson shared the same first and last name as him, as well, and it felt like the universe was playing a giant cosmic joke on Harry’s patience. 

It had gotten to the point where he had been left with no other choice but to cast an illusion spell on his inverted cross necklace in order to mist their similarities in the eyes of mortals. Despite that, he had to withhold liquifying people’s insides every time he got a comment along the lines of “Oh my god, has anyone ever told you that you look like Harry Styles?!” It would get even worse once they learned his name and/or heard him speak: “Your name is Harry, too? And you’re British? That’s so crazy!”

He had started to develop an eye twitch as a result. 

Especially because with his family tree logic taken into consideration, he didn’t look like the musician; in actuality, the musician looked like him. Harry was the original blueprint, his grandson was just the watered-down knock off. 

But since no one could know the truth, lest the entirety of the supernatural world be exposed, Harry had to swallow his pride, smile tightly, nod, and mumble a, “Such a coincidence, huh?” through gritted teeth. 

Unpleasantries overlooked, the young man’s music was pretty decent, Harry will admit. He had an astonishing voice and an undisputed talent for creating catchy tunes with easily enjoyable lyrics. And according to his newest hit, he also shared Harry’s affinity for the mutual pleasure that comes with giving oral, so at least the Walmart version has taste.  

Harry had finished setting down each raw crystal, his hummed cover of Watermelon Sugar fading to an end as he carefully surveyed his work. 

Obsidian for focus, malachite for strength, amethyst for protection, and garnet for manifesting. The jewels were the most appropriate for the hex and he’s proud he had remembered which ones to use without having to consult his grimoire. He had then made a curious sound in the back of his throat, recalling one more gem that was technically optional, but could be extremely useful for conserving his vitality and sharpening his clarity. He had rummaged a bit more through his black velvet bag and pulled out a rock bigger than the others, roughly the size of his palm, and set it down at the very center of the pentagram. Apatite, meant to empower and connect the energies of the other four gemstones to each other and to the rest of the ingredients within the summoning spell. 

At that instance, things still seem to be remaining calm in Y/N’s eyes. These are the normal tools he uses here and there when needed; nothing scary. 

She takes a small step back as her boyfriend walks over from standing in the middle of the tapestry, slowly sitting down front and center at its edge with a light grunt. Harry fiddles through all of the earthy contents he had collected, double-checking to make sure he has everything required before beginning the ritual. When he confirms that all of the factors are adequately present, he then proceeds to shrug off his oversized windbreaker, discarding the light tan fabric onto the floor behind him. He has to be as unconstrained as possible.

He is left in his checkered copper slacks and a tee Y/N had gotten him for Valentine’s Day from one of his favorite brands. It’s a blood red fitted cotton shirt with navy blue horizontal stripes and knitted detailing around the brim of the cuffs and along the collar. A small Mickey Mouse graphic sits embroidered over the right pectoral with its eyes cast upwards towards the wearer’s face, smiling happily and she had thought it to be pretty adorable. The t-shirt is a somewhat odd piece for a demon to wear given the cartoon, which is exactly why she had gotten it for him. She knew he’d enjoy the irony of an innocent drawing flushed tightly against his scarred chest and she had been absolutely right. 

Harry twists around, craning his head back to meet her gaze and gifting her a huge, exaggerated smile while batting his lashes dramatically. His voice carries a theatrical honeyed tone. “Care to be my pretty little magician’s assistant for a second?”

Y/N rolls her eyes grandly, unfolding her loosely crossed arms and leaning down closer as a response, moving a handful of rogue curls away from his forehead with the back of her hand. She kinks her eyebrows expectantly, waiting for his request. 

Harry continues in his normal voice, his sugary sweet act dissolving away into his default sly smirk. “Can you go get me a dish cloth from the kitchen? One of the older ones, please.”

She thumbs over his lip ring for a moment, reaching forward and pecking his mouth chastely. “Sure.”

“Thank you, dove.”

Once she returns with what he’d asked and Harry drapes said rag over his broad shoulder for later access, she retakes her position behind him, absentmindedly chewing on the pad of her thumb nervously as she watches him crumble dried plants in his fist and sprinkle them into the steep metal bowl. Harry drops the shredded juniper, mandrake, rosemary, vervain, and lavender into the kettle in turns, a few unintelligible words whispered lowly as each herb filters through the cracks in his fingers. He retrieves the golden muddler, his other hand cupping the large bowl and spinning it in careful circles, grounding down the plants into a fine powder. 

“What’s each one for?” Y/N pipes up, curiosity besting her wariness. 

Her boyfriend continues his concentrated motions, keeping his eyes trained on his work as he humors her, voice airy yet focused. “The juniper’s for purification, mandrake for enhanced protection, rosemary for warding, and vervain for psychic connection.”

“What about the last one? I think it was lavender?” 

From her sideline perspective, she catches the corner of his lips twitching into a small, amused grin. “That one’s just to make it smell good. Don’t want the stench of death stinking up the house.” 

His indifferent demeanor makes it hard to tell if he’s just screwing with her or not.

Y/N decides to chance another question. 

“You said one of the herbs is for enhanced protection? Is the protection from the stones not enough…?”

Harry doesn’t miss a beat, tapping the grinder tool along the edge of the bowl with finality before setting it down on the floor beside his thigh. “The stones should be enough, but you can never be too careful, right?”

Y/N swallows heavily, the caution behind his quip causing her stomach to knot. “I thought you were just gonna, like, ring them up and they’d just pop in. Is it really that dangerous?” 

The demon throws a knowing glance behind his shoulder, scoffing into a light round of chuckling. “Sweetheart, I’m quite literally reaching a telepathic arm into Hell to yank them out. If I don’t take extra precaution, who knows what else could latch on.” 

The angel’s eyes widen in angered alarm, arms tightening protectively around her torso. “You said this was safe! That you’d done it before and nothing went wrong!”

“It’ll be fine, I promise.” Harry reaches over and squeezes the back of her calf playfully, trying to sooth her nerves. He runs a palm up her leg as far as it allows and then grabs onto the hem of her Minnie Mouse t-shirt (which he had gotten to complete the matching set with his own), tugging at it to signify he wants her to come down. 

His girlfriend refuses, glaring at him with cinched brows and a begrudging grimace weighing down the ends of her pretty mouth. 

Harry’s eyes go hooded in a deadpan expression, jesting. He pulls at her shirt again to try and convince her to kneel down next to him, but is yet again met by her body stiffening up to stand her ground. 

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N.” He sighs in exasperation, wrapping the material of her maroon tee around his knuckles and giving one final yank, tapping into a bit of his unnatural strength to get the job done. “Come here.” 

The sudden heightened force behind his action throws her off balance and Y/N ends up toppling right into his lap, falling bridal style over his crossed legs with a sound of infuriated shock. 

“You’re so fucking annoying.” She grumbles, features maintaining a sour appearance as her arms lock harder around her chest. 

Harry gently moves a few strands of hair out of her face, the locks having fallen victim to her rough landing. He tucks them behind her ear, thumbing over her temple tenderly as boyish giggles threaten to spill out of his mouth. He stifles them by biting into his lower lip, but he can’t stop the way his mouth jolts as they try to come loose. 

Y/N stares at him intensely from beneath furrowed brows, daring him to laugh at her. “This isn’t funny, Harry. What if something happens?”

He clears his throat lowly, finally managing to get rid of the snickering threatening his relationship. He sighs dismissively through his nose, shaking his head in an after-thought. “We’ll be okay, I was just answering your question honestly. All magic comes with a risk, especially when it’s this advanced. But lucky for you, I’ve been doing this for a while now so the chances of me fucking up are pretty low.” 

She presses her tongue to the inside of her cheek, raising an eyebrow with newfound doubt. “‘Pretty low?’ So not impossible.”

“Nothing’s impossible.”

“And that includes you getting us dragged to Hell.”

“You look real cute when you glower and pout, y’know that?”

Y/N shoves at his chest, slapping his hand away from her face. “Will you cut it out? I’m being serious.”

“So am I! Makes you look pretty in a rugged sort of way.” He leans forward, puckering his lips to try and get a kiss in. 

His girlfriend smothers her hand across his face to push him away and he has to resist biting into her palm as retaliation. “If you get me plunged into that godforsaken realm, I swear to Dad I’ll—”

“Think of it this way,” Harry interrupts, swiftly snatching her wrists and giving her a quick shake to get her attention off the bloodthirsty rant. “If we end up down there, I can give you the grand tour. We can visit all my favorite places and I can show you where I made my blade! Seems like a neat date night idea, if you ask me.”

“You’re insufferable and I’m leaving. Call me when it’s done.” 

Y/N goes to stand up, attempting to shimmy her way out of her boyfriend’s lap and get a decent footing. Harry, as always, has other plans. He pulls her upwards towards his face, flushing their foreheads together and rubbing the tip of his nose across the bridge of hers. She blinks at him in a daze, all rage slowly melting right off her face as the amber specks in his eyes soothe away her fright. 

“I promise on my soul— as damned as it may be— that I will not let anything bad happen to you. I swear.”

The emotion behind his oath works as intended, seen in how she releases a shaky exhale and gifts him a solemn nod. “Okay.”

“Alright.” He runs his nose across the crest of her cheek, dimples carving into place. “Now gimme a kiss.” 

She rolls her eyes lightly, an endeared smile finally cracking the unease on her face. “Just one.”

“Just one?” Harry groans dramatically, throwing his head back in fake anguish and she can feel her ears spark with electricity at the way to his throat flexes against the collar of his shirt. “You’re killing me. A second time.”

Y/N laughs fully now, wriggling her hands free and shifting accordingly across his thighs until she’s sitting upright with her arms wrapped around his strong shoulders, her fingers toying with the baby curls along the nape of his neck. She speaks up with exaggerated authority. “Just one kiss, so you better make it good.” 

Harry’s eyebrows jump up challengingly as his head cocks to the side, large hands coasting along her plush waist and onto her backside, roughly hoisting her closer to his body until she’s practically balancing on her knees around his hips. Y/N gropes at his t-shirt as a means to steady herself, breaths catching in her lungs as she feels one of his middle fingers trace up the curve of her spine, his entire hand then raking into the hair along the back of her head. 

He jerks her head downwards until their mouths are barely touching, the skin of his lips brushing over her own, warm and unbearably silky. His tousled curls tickle along her hairline, the heat of his words puffing over her cupid’s bow. His voice is as soft and tempting as his mouth, paired with a dark undercurrent of dirty intentions. “I think you know by now just how good I can make it feel.”

Y/N’s eyes flicker between the coy smirk painting his beautiful lips, the attractive smugness defining his cheekbones, and the suggestive glint dancing across the different shades of jade in his eyes. If she pays close enough attention, she can just make out the faint black veins starting to web underneath his waterline. 

It’s rattling how even after being together for a decent amount of time, Harry always manages to knock the air out of her chest and the composure out of her mind. They’ve been here a dozen instances before, with him placing subtle caresses on her skin, whispering blatant innuendos into her ears, and playing every single one of her strings like he was made for the sole purpose of unraveling and putting her back together. He always leaves her speechless, breathless, and aching for more. 

More of anything— of his attention, of his affection, of his hand at the dip of her back, of his lips pressed to the base of her throat, of his laughter chiming around her, and of his irises blinking back at her’s with all of his emotions leaking through. And at the moment, she’s practically squirming to feel the way he handles her when he’s desperate for her touch. To feel the way he groans hoarsely when she smudges her lips across the sensitive spot on his neck, and the way his breathing stutters when she drags her fingertips down his bare chest, and the way the muscles along his back flex and contract beneath her palms while she makes him feel like his soul is glowing. 

All the pit of her stomach is throbbing to experience is the way his nose bumps at the slope of her jaw timidly when he exhales shakily across the curve of her neck, voice tight and needy while his hips crash between her thighs messily. “Want your mouth, baby. Want you to mark me up and remind me I’m all yours.”

She wants the feeling of his fists tearing at the sheets below her sweaty body as he tries to keep himself from spilling too soon, hellbent on stretching every millisecond into an eternity because the way she’s all snug around him, whining and bucking to his thrusts… It’s the only thing that could possibly rival heaven, or so he says whenever he’s murmuring sweet nothings into the shell of her ear. 

She needs it— needs the sensation of him panting and gasping into the sweaty hair along the crown of her head as she digs her teeth into his shoulder, her hands fumbling to grip the fleshy bits of his waist as they rock into her at a sloppy, hard pace that is somehow controlled, giving her everything she craves while still making sure she’s comfortable and cared for. He’d flutter kisses across her forehead, rasping reassurance against her scalp between guttural moans and pleads. “You’re okay, yeah? Doing alright for me, princess? Wanna make sure I’m making you feel good— need to know I am. Need to know I’m making my girl feel so fucking good for me.” 

Most importantly, she longs to see how his eyes ink completely black when he stumbles over the edge, a numb darkness swallowing up the bright emerald of his irises, framed by pleasure-furrowed brows and thick lashes. Longs to feel his front teeth catch on her stinging lips as he pours whimpery praises onto her tongue, his hard back shuddering beneath her palms as his shaky hands cup her jaw lovingly. Longs to clench around him and whisper encouragement against his mouth as he returns the favor, telling her how the noises that escape her mouth make him utterly drunk and how he would crawl across Hell all over again if it meant getting to spend even a minute between her legs. 

Y/N can’t help the way her thoughts wander when Harry’s so close to her. He sets every single one of her cells on fire without having to lift a finger. She’d never had anyone make her feel the way he does— never looked at anyone the way she looks at him. He’d somehow won her over with his stupid inappropriate jokes, that stupidly handsome crooked grin, the stupidly gentle nature in which he touches her, and his stupid poetic way with words. He keeps her on her toes and makes her grateful to have given love a chance; she doesn’t think anyone else would have given her an epic story quite like theirs. 

And now she sits here perched on his lap, as wordless and awestruck as ever, his arms snaked around her securely, one large warm hand gripping her ass as the other cards into her roots with a domineering air. A conceited look plucks at his sculpted brows and at one corner of his bitten lips, waiting for her to respond to his last comment. Harry’s suggestive remark echoes in her ears like a church bell, causing her thighs to unintentionally clench around his as her fingers twist harder into his expensive tee. 

“I think you know by now just how good I can make it feel.”

A whimpery “I know.” is all Y/N manages to squeak out before Harry’s surging forward and knitting his mouth to her’s, the hunger behind the action causing heat to spill into her cheeks and across her neck. 

Y/N fumbles to cup his sharp jaw with trembling hands, moaning shyly into his mouth at the way the pads of his digits dig into her scalp. His lips burn against hers, her body vaguely recalling that what they are doing is strictly forbidden, but they’ve been doing it for so long now that the sizzling is nothing but a dull sear. It’s easy to ignore, especially when Harry turns his head to the side to deepen the kiss, their cupid’s bows smearing and noses bumping, a weak little, “Fuck, I love you.” rasping out below his breath. 

Her thoughts wade through the syrup pumping into her head, trying to find their way to her vocal chords but she can hardly focus when her boyfriend’s hand gives her ass a rough grope, large palm then sweeping up beneath her shirt to scratch up her back. A small delicate whine betrays her, skin boiling under his influence as his cold rings send sparks raging down her spine. Harry chuckles into their prolonged kiss, the sound vibrating deep in his chest and bleeding into her own, making her heartbeat hiccup. 

His knowing purr streams right past the crack of her teeth, lodging in her throat and making it difficult to breathe. “You like the way my rings feel?” 

Y/N nods her head bashfully, the pads of her fingers staining bruises along his jaw. She doesn’t mean to, but she can’t be expected to control her strength when there’s a pulsing in her abdomen demanding her full attention. 

“What about when I do this?” 

Harry pulls his hand out from below her clothes, much to her disapproval, and cups his digits into a loose fist, reaching upwards to run his gold rings across the arch of her cheekbone. Y/N easily gives into him, coaxing the side of her face against his hand. The image of his black- and red-lacquered nails goes blurry, the sensations he’s putting her through fogging her peace of mind. 

He continues to lull his jeweled knuckles up and down her cheek (especially the ruby ring hugging his pinky, which is the same one that often hangs around her neck from a feminine silver chain), pressing soft pecks to the opposite end of her wobbling lips, his nose drawing meaningless figures along her other cheekbone. His voice comes out admirable and dreamy. “You look so pretty right now. Y’always do, but especially when you give into me like this. When you want me to baby you.” 

Y/N blinks the frost out of her sight, drawing back to get a look at her boyfriend, swallowing audibly at the expression of fond affection softening Harry’s flawless traits. He looks younger, for some reason, with that wispy smile barely titling his lips and his eyes the color of pure seaglass, glossy with familiar warmth. 

The angel inhales slowly, turning her face a bit to dust a kiss onto his palm. Her tone is airy yet solid, confident in her words. “I love you. I love you so much.”

Harry’s sudden sarcastic snort snaps her out of the lovey haze that had settled into the atmosphere. “Was starting to think you weren’t gonna say it back.” 

Y/N narrows her eyes at his dig, diving her fingers into his dark auburn locks and giving a vengeful tug. “Shut up. Way to ruin the moment.”

His jaw drops into an open-mouthed smirk, his mood one of dramatic pained insult. “What did I do?! I was just expressing my concern for the fact that you left me hanging.”

“I didn’t leave you hanging.” She scoffs, using her hold on his curls to give his head another spiteful shake. 

“Yes, you did.” Harry crinkles his face ironically, scrunching his nose and blinking a bunch of times for snarky emphasis. “I was getting nervous. Thought you were gonna pull the good old, ‘I love spending time with you’ on me. Would’ve had to chug a liter of holy water to avoid the embarrassment.” 

“Moron.” Y/N deadpans, but the giggle hanging from the end of her sentence muffles the insult. 

“Guess that makes you a moron, too. By association.” 

“Is that so? And what’s the logic behind that?” 

“The logic,” Harry shifts her in his lap, the hand in her hair falling away to find a place snuggled at the dip of her spine, the thumb of his free hand tapping at the center of her bottom lip playfully, “is that you regularly let this moron fuck you into a begging mess.” 

Y/N ignores the spark that goes off between her thighs. 

“Very funny.” 

“I’m only telling the truth, aren’t I?” He holds up his fingers, counting off each statement with a cocky shrug of his brows accompanying each motion. “You let this moron stretch you out over the bed, and you let him bend you over the kitchen counter, and you let him fuck you in the shower while he pushes you face-first into the wall, and you jerk him off in the mornings when you wake up all needy, and you sit on his face every other—”

“Okay, okay!” Y/N buries her face into his chamomile-scented hair, trying to hide the pastel blue glow she can feel sheening across her irises. “Enough.” 

“And—”

“Harry.” The angel grits out warningly against his scalp.

He snickers at how he’s managed to bend her all out of sorts, the hand nursing her chin streaming downwards to play with the ends of her hair. “Alright, alright. I’m done.” 

She sighs sharply in relief. “Thank you.” 

A few seconds drag by, and then he breaks the silence. 

“Wait! Can’t forget the way you willingly get on your knees and suck on his—”

Y/N claps one of her palms over his mouth, glaring at him pointedly. “Be quiet.”

Harry blinks in mild surprise, going cross-eyed to look at the make-shift gag covering the lower half of his face. He glances back up, eyes half-lidded in mischief, cheeks jolting with an evil grin she can feel beneath her skin. 

A much less pleasant feeling suddenly washes across said skin: his warm, damp tongue. 

“Ew!” Her shriek could probably be heard all the way in heaven. “Harry, that’s gross!”

He launches into a round of bubbly, childish giggles, eyes winking shut from how hard he’s laughing. The fact that Y/N is frantically rubbing her palm over his clothed chest to dry it only adds to the comedy. “Should’ve thought of that beforehand, then. And that’s hilarious considering you don’t seem to mind when I put my tongue somewhere else.”

This time around, she doesn’t have enough control to hide the celestial flush that invades her irises. It shines through at full blast, casting a watery white light across Harry’s face and despite her best efforts to wield it away, it dies down aggravatingly slow. 

The demon purses his lips arrogantly, circling a strand of her hair around his index finger and giving it a lighthearted tug. “There’s that cute little blush I fancy so much.” 

Y/N breaks their gaze, blinking away the last remnants of neon blue and muttering under her breath. “I think I will leave, actually. You can do this yourself.” 

“Oh, c’mon, darling.” Harry locks both of his strong arms around her hips, preventing her from moving even an inch. “Was just teasing, yeah?” 

She knows it’s all harmless, but she enjoys working her temper to her advantage. She’s learned quite a few tricks from her time dating a demon and she’s not ashamed of putting them to good use, one of them being that throwing a fit earns her more babying rights. 

“You’re gonna have to make it up to me.” She reasons, running her touch along the delicate gold chain around his neck. 

Harry chews along the inside of his lower lip, lashes fluttering at the current of electricity passing from her fingertips onto his collarbones. He ducks his head a smidge lower, trying to catch her attention. “Yeah? Any ideas?”

Y/N strokes over the inverted cross at the base of his necklace, smiling to herself as she dwells on the significance of the piece. He’d had it for a while as a backhanded joke, but had told her it’d taken on a deeper meaning once they had started going steady. Told her he kept it around so that he could always have a little piece of her with him. 

“I don’t know,” she finally pipes up, shrugging her brows sarcastically. “You did the crime, shouldn’t you be the one to come up with a way to pay penance?”

Harry hooks his index and middle finger between her own and the charm hanging from his neck, turning her palm over and bringing her knuckles up to his lips. He maintains eye contact as he rubs them across the back of her hand, irises twinkling. “I’ve got something in mind.”

It’s almost sad how easily he can pull her back under. How he has her at the palm of his hand all over again by simply pressing a kiss to the right spot. She adores the banter they share and how his wit matches hers. How he inches her out of the comfort zone she’d inhabited for over three thousand years and shows her what it’s like to unwind and let down her walls. He makes her life exciting by guiding her through this new unknown territory and by making sure she’s happy and fulfilled at every step; she wouldn’t trade it for the world— the fact that she’s willing to lie to God himself in order to protect her relationship proves that.

All in all, her wandering thoughts are a long-winded explanation as how he so effortlessly manages to get her back into a compromisable position with his tongue down her throat and her hands tangled in his velvet curls. 

Harry licks across her top lip, eager to taste as much of her as he can get. One of his hands holds her face firmly as the other coils the fabric of her dark red tee in his grasp, trying to keep himself in check. She drives him fucking mad, that much is obvious, and it takes every fiber of his being to withhold from tearing her clothes off and using his tongue to make her scream. Y/N herself is fantasizing about a similar situation, eyes shut in bliss as he trails down her chin and along the underside of her jaw, suckling bruises into the sensitive flesh of her throat as his whiny sounds of pleasure melt into her bones. 

Her head lists forward drunkenly, eyes just barely cracking open and getting a perfect view of his thick thighs in those dark orange patterned trousers. She gawks at his lap without remorse, irises threatening to roll back into her head when Harry bites into the skin beneath her left ear, warm breath frying her nerves. She wills herself to keep conscious, her view blearing as the area between his legs begins to tent the material of his high-waisted designer pants, an evident bulge straining the miniature checkered print.

A small, feathery laugh escapes her swollen lips as she pins her attention upwards onto the staircase across the living room. She’d glue it to Harry if she could, but he’s just out of range, too busy using his lips to tend the racing pulse slamming against her jugular. The words feel heavy and clumsy in her mouth. “Y-You’re hard.” 

“Is that a joke?” He pants into her scalding skin, voice on edge. “Of course I’m hard. How could I not be, with such a pretty thing like you whimpering in my ear and wriggling around in my lap?” 

His compliment makes her whimper even louder than before, which he responds to by marking another love bite just under the collar of her shirt. “God, you make the hottest little noises. Could listen to them forever.” 

Y/N gnaws on the inside of her cheek, preening at the stroke to her ego. She can see why he loves it so much when it’s vis versa. “More.”

“Pardon?”

“Wanna hear more.” She insists, swiveling her hips against the swelling below her crotch. “Please?”

Harry’s clouded gaze flickers between her needy expression and the way she’s riding against him, heat flooding his face. “S’that what you want, then? To hear everything I’m thinking about you right now?”

Y/N bobs her head in a messy, desperate nod. 

“Well,” her boyfriend talks between the sloppy pecks he’s wetting across her throat, grinning into them cheekily, “I’m thinking about how amazing you feel rutting against me through my clothes. About how fucking dirty you’re being, letting me mark all over your neck because you want to feel the way it stings afterwards.” 

Her fist crumples his shirt harder.  

“I’m thinking about how wet you are underneath those leggings. How you probably want me to move your panties to the side and lick into you until you’re shaking and dripping. How I’d ease my fingers inside that tight cunt and play with that sensitive spot at the pit of your tummy. The one that always makes you bite into the pillow and thrust against me.” 

Y/N carves the digits of her other hand into the back of his skull, feeling him coast his lips across the subtle dip of her collarbones. Her voice barely passes as a whisper. “Y-You’re so good.” 

“Yeah, baby?” He runs his top teeth over her clavicle teasingly. 

“Yeah— yes. Yes, yes, yes.” 

“I’m only this good to you, y’know that? You’re the only one who gets all my attention. The only one who gets to feel my lips against your skin, my fingers between your thighs, my tongue against your clit, and my teeth biting along your chest.” 

“Shit, Harry, I...” She struggles, not trusting herself to form coherent sentences. 

Harry pauses for an instance, hot breath pooling along the junction at the base of her neck. He gulps heavily, licking his raw lips once before speaking the dirtiest thought running around his mind. 

“I want to stretch you out so fucking bad right now, pet. Wanna pound into you until your thighs go sore.” 

Y/N stays quiet, but the way the air falters past her nostrils tells him she’s hanging on to every accented syllable. 

“Want to lay you out on top of that tapestry and make you feel like you’re back in heaven. Want to have you whining and gasping under me.”

She nearly collapses in his arms. It takes a few seconds to process his confession, feeling him shift around and realizing he’s moving the metal ritual bowl— which had been forgotten until now— away from the pentagram layout. His intentions become clear once he hoists her further up his lap, wrapping an arm around her lower back for support and extending the other along the ground before them. He’s adjusting in order to get her onto her back. 

“We—” 

A low, throaty moan of, “Christ, you’re gonna make me ruin these pants.” interrupts her as she repositions herself against his groin. Y/N nearly calls a ceasefire on what she was about to say. 

She gathers her bearings and tries again.

“We have to stop.” 

Harry halts all his actions, gradually pulling away from her tender neck, face and nose flushed a bright cherry red as his eyebrows cinch in disappointed confusion. He gulps down air as if it were about to run out, lean chest heaving and her belly flops at the way his pectoral muscles stretch the cloth of his crimson shirt. He drops his hands away from her body, sitting back on his palms in surrender. 

“Do you not…?” His voice comes out raw and hurt, as if he’s scared he had broken a boundary. “Do you not want to? Is it too much? I don’t want you to feel forced—”

“No, no! God, no.” Y/N rattles her head wildly, surging forward and cupping his face gently, pressing a comforting kiss to the tip of his colored nose. She wants to, she really fucking wants to. In fact, how often she wants to is an embarrassing detail she’d never admit aloud. “I just feel that at this rate, if we keep going, you’ll never actually get to do the summoning ritual.”

Harry contemplates her for an elongated heartbeat, then speaks carefully. “Is that the only reason you’re saying no? You’re worried about my dogs?”

She shrugs one shoulder emptily, looking slightly ansty.

He takes on a jesting demeanor to lighten the mood. “‘Cause if so, I promise you they’re fine waiting a bit Ionger. It’s nice and toasty down there— proper holiday.”

Y/N snorts lightly, which he deems a win. 

“Now is that really the only reason?” He prods her nose with his own. “You know I can tell when you’re lying to me. You’re pretty shit at it, love. Don’t know how you get away with it back home.” 

She picks at her thumbnail— an anxious habit he knows all too well. Her eyes glass over in the manner they do when she’s ambling too deep in her head. “Well…” 

Her minimal sentence trails off ominously. Harry gives a two-toned whistle to reign her back, mouth twitching with endearment when she blinks at him, startled as if she’d forgotten he was there. 

Y/N’s attitude is one of timid guilt. “Isn’t that tapestry a sacred antique? Wouldn’t it be wrong to…y’know...?”

Harry belts out a disbelieving laugh. “Since when do you care about defiling satanic artifacts? Thought you’d be all for it.” 

She scowls. “Won’t Lucifer find out?” 

Her boyfriend rolls his eyes haphazardly, waving a hand weakly for emphasis before using it to push his disheveled curls away from his forehead. “I highly doubt it.” 

“I feel like he has a way of knowing everything, H.” 

“He does, most times. But,” he holds up his pinky symbolically, wiggling it around with a shit-eating grin curving his cupid’s bow, sing-songing. “I won’t tell if you won’t.” 

The raunchiness of it all is appealing to her urge to be rebellious— an urge he had instilled in her over the months they’d known one another. She reiterates her previous point, trying to convince herself more than anyone because it really is so unbelievably tempting. “It’s a risk, and it’s wrong.”

Harry fits her chin between his thumb and forefinger, ghosting his mouth over hers and blinking slowly, establishing a seductive hold. His whisper is warm and raspy, almost as if he’s trying to keep their shadows from eavesdropping. “That’s what makes it so fucking hot.” 

Y/N follows his lips, aiming to draw him into a kiss, but he pulls back, brows kinking in a mocking fashion. The action silently communicates its intended message: If you want a kiss, you have to give in to me.

She ogles at his incredibly plump lips with greed, her mouth watering without permission as she recalls how they were wheedling sins out of her only a couple minutes prior. Her face does a dire job of hiding her true feelings and Harry’s eyes glint triumphantly in recognition. 

“You stubborn little minx….You want to do it.” He marvels aloud, poking fun. “You’re just saying no to try and save your conscience.”

Y/N doesn’t respond, but doesn’t deny it either. 

“S’just a quickie, sweetheart,” he moves a smidge and his elegant masculine cologne wafts from his neck, swaying her. “And by the looks of it, you’re already set on a decision.”

Y/N finally breaks her silence, gradually peeling herself away from his lips up to his coy gaze. “You’re a terrible influence.”

And there it is— a green light. 

Harry pouts, though it’s jokingly condescending and bears no true regret. “A horrible one.”

He throws his weight forward with her in tow, causing her legs to instinctively clasp fully around his hips to avoid falling out of his lap. She clings to his shoulders for security, grasp tightening at the turbulence that comes when one of his palms hits the ground below, the other tied around her lower spine. She eyes the way his gold necklace drapes off his upper chest, the cross dangling over her face and she can’t help but find the irony in it. 

The angel gnaws into her lower lip to muffle a grin. “Absolutely awful.”

Harry begins crawling forward, holding her to his chest as he glimpses up momentarily at his target— the center of the pentagram. “Utterly loathsome.”  

“Incredibly atrocious.”

He’s nearly there, excitement starting to toil the pit of his stomach as all of the possibilities of what he could do to her shuffle before his eyes. “Properly despicable.” 

“Entirely vile.”

Harry murmurs a minor spell under his breath, the large chunk of apatite rolling a couple feet out of the way. With a gentle hand, he sets Y/N down in the middle of the giant satanic star, admiring the way the golden glint of the aged paint compliments her skin tone so beautifully. He tethers his forearms on either sides of her head for balance as he settles his lower body between her legs, face hovering right above her own, eyes briefly flitting black in amusement at their little game. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were about to break up with me.”

Y/N sputters into a laugh, fingers tracing the collar of his suddenly restricting shirt, toying with his chain. His breathing catches in his throat, Adam’s Apple bobbing thickly as he waits for her to make the first move, wanting to ensure she’s fully committed. 

She dances her shiny irises over the peaks of his parted lips and the high points of his cheekbones, absorbing every characteristic of his handsome aspect. The little moles at the right corner of his mouth and the way his nose curves faintly along it’s bridge. The arch of his eyebrows and the length of his lashes. The different shades of green swimming around his pupils and the dusting of pink blossoming along the base of his throat. The slope of his jawline and the way his dark ringlets curl around his small ears and frame his chiseled face. She takes it all in and locks every detail away in her heart for safe-keeping, knowing she’ll reflect on them during a time when she doesn’t have him near. 

Y/N loops his necklace around her index finger, giving it a few playful yanks, voice quiet yet confident. “Iustus clausum et irrumabo me.”

Just shut up and fuck me.

She then slowly pulls down and Harry follows, dimples carving awake the instant their itching lips touch, his words sugar and spice against her flesh. “Quod suus mea puella stupri.”

That’s my fucking girl.

Harry loves it when Y/N bosses him around, especially if it’s in Latin. The language is an everyday commodity in his world, considering satanic magic has its basis constructed around Latin roots, but the dialect is a very private, very sanctified part of angelic culture. According to what Y/N has told him, it's only ever really used during important meetings and religious ceremonies. It’s highly respected, therefore highly contained, and the fact that Y/N is so readily sharing it with him hits a special place in his twisted soul. The fact that it is something so secluded, yet she loves and trusts him enough to speak it in his presence, let alone use it in their intimate life...

The pleasure it brings him is indescribable. Her filthy words radiate deep in his chest and trickle down into the bottom of his tummy, the fire in his abdomen rising a few notches in intensity. The weight against his inner thighs grows heavier, the dull ache upping itself into a sharp throb. He needs this now.

One of his hands leaves its post besides his girlfriend’s head, reaching down to fumble with the belt around his high-waisted trousers, struggling to get it loose. His brows scrunch down angrily, a desperate little grunt vibrating into their heated kiss as he wrestles with the issue. Y/N’s amused smile spreads along his lips, her hands dragging from around his strained neck down to his rapidly rising chest, hooking around his own and giving a squeeze. The way her eyes glimmer up at him makes his spine shiver, her whisper soft and sultry. “I’ve got it.”

Harry returns his arm to its previous position, tilting his sight downwards to get a view of what she’s doing, his chin pressing into the dip between his defined collarbones. 

It shouldn’t be so erotic, but it is. He watches in a numb stupor as Y/N undoes the buckle around his slender waist, delicate fingers easily drawing out the loop. She tampers with the button of his pants, unclasping it in one swift move and the relief that floods between his clammy thighs is almost shameful. 

The demon slowly raises his attention back to her face, only to find that Y/N had been carefully studying his during the entire ordeal. She has her bottom lip tugged between her teeth and a white iridescent glint washing over her irises, curious excitement evident in her features. The hand perched at the waistband of his copper-tinted bottoms begins to crawl lower, wandering further down until it covers the obvious bump in his black Calvin Klein briefs. 

The oxygen in Harry’s lungs chars, his breathing stilled by the suspense. The discipline it takes to wait for her to continue is insane. 

Y/N's left eyebrow jumps upwards ever so slightly in a smug question, his only response being the veins along his neck becoming prominent. She gradually begins to palm him through his underwear, moaning softly at how heavy he feels in her hand. 

His entire nervous system breaks into blissful flames, strong back flexing as his fingers tighten into fists against the cloth beneath their bodies. “Fucking hell.”

Her hand rocks harder against his cock, giving a particularly deep grope while somehow maintaining her shy pace. A hiss streams through his gritted teeth, the beginnings of a whimper following suit. Y/N feels as if electricity were coursing through her limbs, the power she has over him fluffing her esteem. He just looks so hot right now, slightly damp curls falling across his striking jawline and decorating his heavy lashes, an alluring shade of raspberry spilling into his cheeks as his swollen lips quiver. She could stare at him for hours— keep him on edge like this just to see him slowly split at the seams, begging for more. 

Her voice comes out awed and airy. “You look so pretty, Har.” 

His cheeks dye brighter, tongue wetting his dry lips. “You like seeing me come undone for you?” 

Y/N hums quietly in agreement, wrapping her grasp around the back of his neck, pulling him dangerously close until their mouths are barely a centimeter apart. “And I like feeling you get hard in my hand.” 

His hips give a rough buck in reply, head falling into her throat, eyes screwing shut as colors pop across his vision. He starts to thrust against her palm, weaning out as much pleasure as he can from what she’s offering. His whine is warm and sticky against her sleek skin. “I love it when you touch me like this, baby. Love showing how worked up you get me.”

Y/N speeds up just a hair, matching his movements and swimming in the bundle of broken sounds that resonate from in his chest. Her breathing stutters as he pastes sloppy kisses along the pulse thundering in her throat, her thoughts slipping reality at the sensation of precum wetting the length of her fingers. The nails of her free hand rake underneath the cotton of his shirt, carving along the back of his shoulder and along his upper spine, leaving vicious marks that she knows will be gone in a matter of hours. 

Y/N jolts when she feels the warmth of his digits coasting just beneath the hem of her tee, the pads brushing her love handles and thumbing at the dimples along her waist. She doesn’t want it to stop and Harry doesn’t intend to, the chill of his chunky rings running up the expanse of her torso, bringing fabric along with it. He pushes the material over her floral baby blue lace bra, folding it over onto her upper chest, humming appreciatively at how gorgeous she looks in the see-through piece. The tiny flowers are a perfect decoration for what lies below.

Harry’s messy pecks drift down to the swell of her breasts as he shifts his mass onto one forearm, his graze streaming up along the crest of her belly button, the center valley of her cleavage, and beneath one of the lingerie straps. He fiddles it between his thumb and forefinger, looking up at her with lust dilating the amber droplets around his pupils, teeth gently bearing down onto her skin and staining it dark purple. 

The grip below his belt hardens as a result, the whites of his eyes spilling black, accompanied by a provocative grin flickering the corners of his mouth. He tugs the strap of her bra lower just until her chest is fully bare, his mouth descending the same route as the cloth. He softly nestles at her pebbled nipple with the tip of his nose, circling it with a sprinkling of kisses, the silver hoop at the right corner of his mouth catching on the bud. 

Y/N wriths under the teasing, mewling a wispy, “Please, Harry...please.” into the tense ambience surrounding them. Her head falls back against the ground and she is so lost in the moment, she doesn’t realize the tapestry has started to burn against her. The object seems to be rejecting her touch, well aware of what she is and that she shouldn’t be anywhere near its proximity, yet she chooses to ignore it. It isn’t anything major— just a light prickling— and it only feeds the appeal of what they’re doing. 

Her boyfriend’s deep, garbled voice ropes her. “Look at me.”

“Hm?”

“Look at me, darling. Wanna show you something.” 

Y/N obliges, using the small amount of self-control she has left. 

There is barely any light in the room given that rituals normally take place in dim settings, the only source being the faded rays spilling in from the kitchen. Harry’s murky gaze shines under that scarce amount, and it’s enough for her to see the black veins mazing their way down from his eyes and across his cheekbones. The first time she had ever seen his transformation, it had scared the living grace out of her. But now, it was one of those traits she had become accustomed to and had even grown fond of. It was odd, and she knows that, but it made him more attractive in a nature she can’t quite explain. 

Once Harry sees he has her undivided attention, he murmurs a vaguely familiar spell against the skin of her breast. “Incendia.”

A spontaneous gleam fills the room, the candles placed around the corners of the tapestry igniting to life. The warmth of the flames wash their bodies, melting over Harry’s tanned figure and bouncing shadows across the walls of the room. He looks incredible in this lighting, his skin seeming to glow under the buttery orange hues as the tattoos on his arms stand out more evidently than usual, matte and dark against the backdrop of his smooth, lean arms. The faint stubble along his jaw shines faintly, ringlets and lashes undergoing the same fate, looking silky with a gorgeous sheen. Every detail is highlighted and she can’t seem to tear herself away. 

As his large silhouette casts over Y/N while she stares up at him with admiration, he is doing the same exact thing— basking in her beauty within this unique moment. However, Harry manages to take it a bit further. 

“Can you see yourself?” He whispers, breath fanning over her pert chest, making the knobs of her spine jolt.

“What do you mean?” 

“Can you see?” Harry implores. 

Y/N begins to ask once again what he’s getting at, but then it dawns on her. Her reflection braces the darkness washing his gaze black and she understands what he means. She can see herself in his eyes— quite literally. 

“Y-Yeah, I can. Why?”

Harry licks his lips almost nervously, reaching his free hand up and running a knuckle across her twitching cheek. “Want you to see yourself the way I see you.”

Y/N’s heart softens into a lovesick puddle, his sweet words pouring heat into her ears. What he’s doing is meaningful to her— taking something she had been shaped to despise and showing her how it can be used for good. 

She cups his jaw with her unbusy hand, rubbing her thumb over his lower lip and releasing a timid giggle. “Only you would get all sappy while I have my hand down your pants in the middle of a satanic ritual mat.” 

Harry breaks into a dorky grin, snorting softly as the ink recedes from his irises. “Wowww. What was that you said earlier? Oh, yeah! Way to ruin the moment.”

Y/N crinkles her nose with fake disgust, pretending to gag. “It was gross, anyways. Very chick-flick cliche on your part.”

“Heyyyyy!” Harry bites into her thumb, causing her to yelp out and retract. “You’re pretty fucking ungrateful for an angel, y’know that?”

“Was I wrong, though?”

“I’m never being romantic with you ever again.” 

“Oh, don’t mope. What was that you said? Oh, yeah!” Y/N mimics his voice, dropping in pitch and crossing her eyes into a silly expression, exaggerating a British accent. “Was just teasing, yeah?”

“Look who’s annoying now.”

She beams at him snidely. “Love you!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Harry grumbles, slapping his hand down against the floor to once again use it as support. “Whatever.”

He returns his focus to the naked side of Y/N’s chest, sticking his tongue out completely and giving the sensitive bud a gradual lap. That one action is enough to silence her permanently. That is, until he takes her nipple fully into his mouth and starts flicking at it eagerly. Then she can’t keep her mouth shut. 

“Oh—Oh my God.” Her back arches up sharply, the hand she has below his waist forgetting its purpose, instead jetting upwards to join its companion within the damp roots of his hair. “That feels— oh!”

Harry smirks around his occupied tongue, putting more force behind his suckling, hollowing out his cheeks and purring in self-assured content when Y/N’s head falls back onto the tapestry. His other arm shifts closer to her body, hand blindly searching for the leftover bra strap, grabbing at it and yanking down wildly. He switches sides, settling for using his thumb to toy at the wet, bruised nipple as he paints a matching hickey on its partner, the ruby stud imbedded in his tongue cold and rough to the touch. 

Y/N knots his hair into the cracks of her shaky fingers, holding his head in place as her shattered whines ring across the air. “That feels so good, H, I— you’re just— fuck.”

Harry pulls back with a damp pop, licking at his stinging lips as he surveys his work with a certain slyness quirking his mouth, absentmindedly already tampering with her leggings. His voice has dropped a few octaves, coming out thick and scratchy. “They look so pretty like that.”

Y/N has trouble swallowing, glancing down at her hastily unclothed breasts, delicate bra reduced to a crumpled mess beneath them. There are teeth prints scattered over the supple area, the raw nubs aching from the air-conditioning draft. She doesn’t disagree; there’s something so satisfying of seeing where he marked her. Her thoughts come out half-conscious and dazed, slightly teasing. “Thanks for not ripping this bra open like the others. I really like the color. And it was fifty dollars.” 

“I know.” Her boyfriend huffs, hauling himself onto his knees and jerking the cotton tights down her legs in the process, casually tossing them over his shoulder. “I was the one that bought it.”

Harry bends forward and starts coasting his lips down the center of her upper tummy, leaving a wet trail of pecks in his wake and blowing a raspberry onto her belly button, which she responds to by almost kicking him in the groin. She claims it’s an accident but he can see her mouth trying not to twist into a smile.

Y/N’s hips lift a bit once he arrives at her lower abdomen, anticipating him in a much needier spot. He rests his stomach onto the ground for a more formidable position, swiftly separating her clasped thighs with his palms, peering up at her suggestively through his lashes. 

In the back of her mind, she fantasizes about taking a picture to commemorate this specific shot, but she knows it’s a risk having it on her phone. Her friends have a knack for stealing it as a prank and the last thing she needs is them finding a photo of her with her legs spread open across a pentagram rug, a heavily tattooed demon laying between them and grinning up at the camera. She’d willingly kick herself out of heaven if that happened.

Instead, she just indulges a quivering exhale, watching as Harry takes turns gluing open-mouthed kisses along the slope of both her inner thighs, dragging the band hooked into his bottom lip along the plush area. His tongue peeks out to savor the velvety skin, a wispy mumble feathering across his lips. “So soft.” 

He slowly treds closer and closer to her panties and she tries her best to keep still to avoid any mishaps. She wants to be able to see everything he’s doing— watching him work her over gives just as much bliss as the actual actions. Harry reaches her crotch, playfully running his nose across the elastic band of her undies, pressing his lips lazily right over her clothed clit. She bites into the inside of her cheek to stifle a whimper, eyeing him with enough lust to damn multiple souls. 

He gently hoists one of her legs over his shoulder, socked heel thudding against the sturdy muscle, toes curling. He loops his arm around her outer thigh, splaying his fingers across her lower stomach while wriggling his thumb below the center of the matching lace set. 

Harry pins it to the side, away from his area of interest, his confidence drinking up the way she’s already dripping. “If I’d known you were already this wet, I would’ve skipped the foreplay.” 

Y/N shakes her head half-heartedly, too engrossed in how his warm breath feels across the pooling in her center. “I like foreplay.” 

Harry sticks the flat of his tongue onto her exposed clit, giving one leisurely lick. “Obviously.”

The fingers in his curls— which had hung on loosely for the trek downwards— suddenly tighten so hard he sees stars blot his vision. Y/N doesn’t make a sound, but her ragged breathing speaks volumes. 

Harry kisses along the lips on either sides, dimples winking awake at how her body gives tiny jolts. “Someone’s sensitive, huh?”

Y/N’s heel digs deeper into his back, his scalp prickling under her strength. “Need more.”

“More what, dove?” He knows exactly what she’s pleading for, but he wants to hear her confess it.

“Need—” A cracked mewl interrupts her sentence, a direct reaction to Harry blowing over her cunt softly, edging her on purpose. 

“Use your words.” He mocks, continuing his torture. 

Y/N manages to squeeze out what he’s bargaining, amidst holding in a scream. “Need more of your mouth— of your tongue.” 

Harry halts himself, raising an eyebrow and blinking up at her with fake innocence. “What, this mouth?”

He runs his cupid’s bow messily across the thick of her clit, getting her excitement all over the lower half of his face. The stimulation it brings has Y/N squirming against him, nodding her head frantically. 

He stops what he’s doing, tutting. “What did I say about using your—?”

“Yes!” Y/N growls in frustration, belly clenching. “That mouth, yes.” 

A conceited hum runs along the back of his throat. “And what tongue? This one?”

He begins to give her small kitten licks, the red jewel on his tongue heightening the experience as his head bobs lightly between her thighs. He flicks his piercing against her clit with concentrated strokes, smirking when he feels a sudden warmth flush his face, letting him know he’s doing a more than adequate job. 

The view above him unarguably belongs in a museum. 

Y/N just looks so gorgeous with her unsteady legs opened wide for him to have his way, her chest spilling out of her clothes as her back caves off the floor, heaving under his influence. Her mouth is shamelessly agape, the noises she’s making sounding nothing short of a melody to his ears. Her hands fidget around his hair, one ending up perched at the crown of his head with the palm pressed between his brows, the other knitted along the spiral where his curls stem. She’s cemented him into place, her hips bucking upwards against his face, riding against his skilled tongue in a manner that makes his cock ache in his trousers. 

Unintentionally and unbeknownst to him, he starts grinding against the ground, trying to calm the raging along the underside of his balls. He needs some type of relief— as minimal as it may be— or else he’s going to make a complete mess without even being between her legs. He has to pace himself. 

“Who’s tongue is it, hm?” He’s muffled by a full mouth, but that’s never stopped him before and certainly won’t stop him now. “Who’s the one that gets you this fucking desperate?”

“You, Harry, you.” The angel is nearly sobbing, water blearing her vision as pleasure fogs her mind. “Y-You’re the only one that can make me feel like this.” 

“Yeah?” His eyes flicker between black and their usual emerald hue, his rhythm quickening as spasms begin to wring down her body, his piercing prodding her sensitive clit with more excitement. “Just me? Nobody else ever could, right?”

“No one. Ever.” 

“Damn straight.” Harry buries his face deeper between her legs, eyes rolling into the back of his head at the feeble moan that streams from a few feet above. “Nobody knows my girl the way I do. Shit, you’re so fucking sweet. Your mouth, your skin, between your thighs— everywhere.”

She’s getting close— he’s done this enough times to spot the tell-tale signs. The way her grip strains, how she snaps her jaw shut in order to chew into her cheek, the way her tummy jumps, and how she’s forfeited the ability to even try to speak words. He wants to make her cum like this so fucking bad— wants to feel her spill across his tongue so he can lick up every drop until she goes limp— but he wants to feel her unravel while he’s balls-deep even more. Wants to fill her up and taste his name in one of those pretty whines she’s so keen on making. 

Harry draws back, lips and eyes glistening in the candlelight, teeth buzzing and cheeks hot. “Not yet.”

Y/N’s pent up body slowly ebbs onto the tapestry, the orgasm he’d been kindling flowing its way out of her system. She’s not upset in any way, she just feels empty and needier than before. But she knows it’ll be worth it— it always is. 

“Not yet, I know…” She recites back, fingers ruffling his locks lightly, throat barren as she fights moisture down its path. A bit of praise escapes her as an afterthought, quiet and revelling. “You’re amazing.” 

“So are you.” Harry returns without missing a beat, carefully propping himself up onto his elbows, wiping his mouth down with the side of his hand. His tone is groggy and distant, yet assured. “And you taste so fucking incredible. Like candy and champagne.”

Y/N rests her head against one of the golden lines that form the pentagram, eyes lulling closed as she tries to get her spastic breathing under reign. The cloth below her shifts as a result of sudden movements, the origin being Harry gently setting her leg down from his shoulder. He slowly crawls his way on top of her, palms flat besides the curves of her sweaty neck. 

He levels their faces, head listing a smidge to the side as he admires the expression of sheer rapture still present on her features. He leans down and buttons their lips, the kiss chaste compared to the ones prior. He anchors onto his forearms like he had initially, moving strands of hair away from her cheeks as her weak fists find comfort against his chest. 

“Need a minute?” His comment doesn’t carry his usual vanity, but is rather concerned and understanding. He wants to make sure she’s alright. 

“I’m fine.” She swallows, eyelids blinking open, the intensity present behind them striking him by surprise. “What I need is for you to work me over until I can barely stand.”

Harry’s cock twitches, the wet patch in his briefs growing. He poses his forehead to hers, gnawing on his bottom lip. “Bold words for such a delicate little thing.” 

“I’m not delicate.” Y/N’s irises give a faint angelic glow, waringingly playful. 

He sighs thoughtfully through his nose, a simper stringing his pursed mouth. “You’re right. You just look like it. Makes me forget how much of slut you can be.”

His girlfriend’s eyes burn brighter and he knows he’s hit a nerve. Out of all the kinks he could have ever imagine an angel would possess, degradation would have never crossed his mind. 

Harry’s grin widens. “You liked that, didn’t you?” 

Y/N doesn’t even flinch. 

He begins to push his pants down his thighs, bringing his underwear down with it. He doesn’t rid them all the way, but just enough to fish himself out. There’s a delicious type of desperateness to fucking half-clothed; it paints the image of two people so gone for each other that they do the bare minimum when it comes to preparations, all in order to feel one another as quickly as possible. And, fuck, does he need her so bad right now. The last thing on his mind is handling his trousers. 

Y/N looks down at what he’s doing over the crests of her cheeks, biting back a groan when she sees him entirely bare. Though Harry’s cock is the only one she’s ever had, she knows for a fact it’s above average not only in size, but in looks. It’s just pretty, she can’t really explain it; he takes care of himself so well, says he wants to keep presentable for her. 

There’s something extremely attractive about a man tailoring to his girlfriend’s desires. The hair around the area always remains neatly trimmed and he keeps his happy trail thicker— it’s one of her preferences, he’s learned. He makes sure to regularly keep up to par because there’s nothing that quite inflates his pride like watching her ease down his pants and lick her lips with a hungry hint in her eyes as soon as she sees him fully naked.

He spots that same starved quality glint around her pupils now as he cups his prick, giving himself a few rough tugs for good measure, squeezing the head until precum bubbles out. He can feel her forehead crease against his, her impatience obvious. 

“You like this, too?” He murmurs against her parted mouth, taking her bottom lip between his teeth. “Like watching me touch myself for you?” 

She glances up at him through her heavy lashes, giving the slightest nod. It’s cute how shy she can be despite the situation. 

“That’s pretty filthy, Y/N.” He gives a harder stroke, eye contact stagnant even as he chokes out a broken gasp. “Makes you my proper little...” 

He trails off on purpose, dangling the possibility over her head. 

She speaks up, somehow timid and adamant all at once. “Say it.”

“Say what?” The demon taunts, working his palm down to the base of his cock and giving another squeeze, to which she winces lightly. It seems to be impacting her more than him. 

“Say I’m your...” Y/N’s hands curl tighter in anticipation against his pectorals. 

“What are you, darling? Why don’t you spell it out for me? You know how simple-minded demons can be.”

“Harry— just please.” The way her voice breaks feeds his mildly sadistic tendencies.

“‘I’m your little…’” The forefinger of his free hand traces the word over her cheek letter by letter. “Go on.”

His girlfriend sniffles, gathering herself. “I’m...I’m your little whore.” 

“See, that wasn’t so hard.” Harry grasps her jaw lightly, planting a kiss at the right corner of her mouth. “Say it again. Who’s?” 

“Yours.” 

The hand that had been playing with himself comes up before her face, fingers coated with precum. Her first instinct is to reach forward and lick them clean, craving his taste. 

Harry jerks back, scolding her. “Mm-mm. You want it in your mouth, you’re gonna have to say it all.”

Y/N hesitates. It’s not that she doesn’t want to, but it’s always been difficult given her background. “I said it, I said I’m yours.”

He rests his wet digits against the center of her lips as an incentive, warning her not to take a taste. “Who’s?”

A familiar sparkle casts across his eyes and she knows exactly what he wants to hear. 

“Daddy’s. I’m daddy’s little whore.” 

Harry’s shoulders shiver at the way the statement sounds coming from her mouth— so dirty, but in such an innocent tone. “There it is. Go ahead.”

Y/N eagerly sucks every last trace of him off his digits, licking her lips with finality. He always tastes so fucking good— salty but somehow sweet. 

Her eyes are glossier than he’s ever seen them, staring at him hazily. After a minute of contemplating, she makes a demand in a voice steady as can be. 

“I want you to fuck me hard.”

Harry starts to arrange himself into place, balancing forward on his knees and throwing both of her legs around his hips. He spits into his palm— which shouldn’t be hot, but it is— and reaches down to prep himself, aura as cocky as ever, which somehow manages to cover up the tremor in his voice. “Is that so?”

Y/N can feel the tip of his prick sliding between her folds, nudging at the hood of her clit and bumping along the rim of her entrance. She snaps at him, knowing that this is exactly what he was aiming towards— for her to be dominant, as short-lived as it may be. “Stop being such a tease and make me cum.” 

Her boyfriend chuckles onto her tongue, grabbing at her wrists and nailing them to either sides of her head. “You’re so hot when you’re assertive.”

She bites his lower lip in a flare of confidence, huffing shakily when she feels him start fitting his cock into her slowly, leaning forward inside her at a patient stride. “Finish what you promised me earlier.” 

She’s referring to when he had spoken all of his fantasies and his eyes momentarily go dark in a symbolic fashion, the figures of the ritual candles reflecting off the surface. “My pleasure, sweetheart. You know demons never break a promise.”

Harry’s hips give a harsh thrust forward, filling her up in one swift motion, causing her to cry out as searing pleasure rips across the pit of her tummy. 

Y/N’s hands wriggle around in his grasp, thighs clamping around his waist as he stretches her out into a whimpering, trembling mess. He grinds to a halt once he bottoms out, keeping himself tucked inside for a couple of seconds, allowing her to get accustomed to his girth. He dusts soft, sloppy kisses onto the curve of her jaw and along her throat, her heartbeat pounding beyond humanly possible. If she wasn’t a higher being, it would have surely burst from her chest by now. 

He rubs the tip of his tinted nose underneath her chin. “Doing okay?”

“Y-Yeah.” Y/N pants into his ear, his back tightening due to the warm air caressing the shell. “You’re just— it’s just...big.”

“Feels good, though?” Harry’s tongue tends the alcove of her juglar, drawing a stripe upwards until he’s at her lips once more. “Not too hard?”

She rattles her head, bumping his mouth with her own and giving him a testing look. “Harder.”

He gulps down a moan as he tries to keep his composure, but it’s proving difficult as her walls clutch around him. “You sure?”

Y/N nods once, smearing the crescent over her upper lip across his, whisper low but collected. “I can take it.”

The determined shimmer in her irises makes his chest flutter.

Harry draws his hips back slowly, grunting softly at the way she clings to him, vision washing in different shades of electric reds and mellow blues. Fuck, she’s a godsend— literally. No one’s ever fit him so well. 

He juts forward, spreading her open again and gauging her reaction. She wavers ever so slightly with a sharp, “mm!” and he instantly regrets it, thinking he might have gone too far, pushed too much on her too soon. But then a floaty, satisfied smile ticks onto the edges of her mouth, the lewd grin widening around her bitten lip. She was right— she wasn’t delicate, and she could definitely take it. 

He cradles his face into her neck, words scalding into her flesh. “Want me to fuck you like the darling little slut you’re trying so hard to be?” 

Her hips lurch in response, causing him to sink deeper. “Yes, please.” 

And with her swollen pouty lips, her calves tied around the backs of his thighs, and the greediness mirroring his...How could he ever turn her down?

Harry’s fingers loosen around her wrists, intertwining between the cracks of her own. The softness of her skin somewhat fastens the last remnants of his self-discipline together, the bridge of his nose burrowing into the spot right below her ear. He snaps his hips forward into her as far as they will go, then recedes, repeating the action over and over and slowly beginning to gain a set rhythm. 

Y/N convulses with every stroke, teeny whimpers and gasps strangling from her each time the head of his cock hits the trench of her belly. Harry isn’t much better at controlling his noises, not that he’s really trying. He knows she loves it when he’s vocal, hence why he lets himself go, his frail grunts and whines hot and tacky under her earlobe. The thick cotton material of his fitted t-shirt is sticking to the sweat along his back, his belt buckle slinking along to his strong pace, which is gradually losing its curt rhyme, becoming slack and harsh. His cross necklace dangles above her chest, dabbing across her bruised nipples and sending waves of heat flooding through her stomach.

Y/N’s open mouth flushes against his temple, taking in rattling inhales every time he draws out and exhaling them in the form of a prompt puff when he slams back in. Her fingers curl around his own, nails imprinting into the back of his hands, her mind drunk on the ecstasy he’s feeding into her bit by bit. She takes the shell of his ear between her teeth, biting down until he shudders above her, lips parting open in a silent moan against the nook of her neck. 

“You feel so good, baby. You always feel so good.” Her breathy compliment sends a current racing down his spine, the simple pet name flogging the fire boiling in his stomach. 

Harry’s voice doesn’t sound quite his own, but rather a vulnerable, watered-down version. “Love it when you call me that.”

“I’ll call you whatever you want as long as you—” A fractured cry plucks her vocal chords when he gives a particularly intent ram. “Keep going.” 

Minutes simulate hours as Harry continues to drive into Y/N, her whole body jostling against the ground, wrinkling the cloth of the tapestry and sifting the half-melted candles out of their specifically chosen sites. The intense span of time never sees a quiet moment, instead littered with noises of damp skin connecting and needy sounds of pleasure, which take the shape of half-conscious mewls of approval whispered onto impatient tongues and overzealous lips. 

Harry extends her arms further above her head, stretching out her back and chuckling along the pulse in her throat when she gives a curious yawp at the fortified sensations the new position brings. The wider range makes it feel as if he’s touching deeper inside; it translates into a heightened throbbing along her inner thighs and heat flashes pooling at the base of her backbone. 

“Better?” He mumbles against her mouth, milling his hips in long circular motions that make her lungs stammer.

“Yes— yes, yes, yes! You have no idea.”

“How about now?” Harry passes both of her wrists into one of his hands, the other one coming down to wrap around her throat. His dark-polished nails catch a firm hold and he can feel her neck straining under his palm. “Like it?”

The constraint of the whole situation makes her go lightheaded, but in the best way possible. It amplifies the ache between her legs and she’s never felt more sinful than now, with a demon’s rings tight around her jugular as he fucks a sixth sense into her system. As much as it shames her to say it, she doesn’t like it, she loves it. 

“Y-Yeah.” Y/N croaks out, fingers twisting into feeble fists in his grasp. “Love it.” 

“Mm.” Harry hammers into her harder, appreciating the little cries she squeaks out. “Thought you would.”

After a couple more minutes of cramming inside her harshly and delighting himself in watching the way her furrowed, surprised expressions mold into ones of awed sexual relief, he clears his throat softly, hips coming to a still. Her eyes fly open in protest, but the way he’s worrying at the corner of his mouth tells her it’s far from over. 

“Want you on top.” 

Y/N blinks at him sleepily, swallowing the lump in her throat. “On top?” 

Harry’s head gives a small bow of agreement, eyes glazed. “You just look real cute bouncing in my lap.” 

“I do?” It’s an honest question; she can barely think straight right now, let alone hold a conversation.

He purrs in confirmation, wincing at how she gives a sudden squeeze around his cock. “At the risk of a cheap joke, the only way I can describe it is by saying that you look like an angel.” 

She laughs lightly as she stares up at the ceiling, the shadow of his broad body pictured over its expanse. “You’re lucky I love you and your cheap jokes.”

“My astonishing good looks outweigh the shitty humor.” 

“Debatable.”

He lets go of her hands and throat, one of her unfeeling arms coming down to hang across his neck as the other runs the pads of her fingers over his cheekbone affectionately. “You want me to ride you?”

Harry releases a tight breath at her bluntness, his sanity slipping through his fingers. The way she can so easily flip back and forth between her normal tender personality and this unapologetic, sexually confident alter-ego always leaves him shell-shocked. “So fucking bad.”

She nods once feebly, whispering into his ear. “Put me on top, then.”

Harry scoops her fully into his arms and maneuvers accordingly, twisting and turning carefully to assure he doesn’t crush her in the process. After a flurry of limbs and a decent amount of extra wrinkles on the drapery, Y/N ends up in Harry’s lap once again, except this time around they’re wearing way less clothes, are way sweatier, and he’s buried to the hilt. 

He sits back onto his palms as she balances her knees on either sides of his bare hips, hooking her socked feet along the inner parts of his knees as she settles herself comfortably against his thick, warm thighs. His belt buckle is cold against her backside but the sensation somehow docks more pleasure. Especially with the way Harry’s mooning at her, almost as if she’d put the stars in the sky. 

Y/N remains unmoving for a few seconds, her hands traveling down the extent of his clothed torso, the fabric itchy against her palms. She wanders below the hem of his maroon Mickey Mouse tee, his happy trail bristling the pads of her curious fingertips. She glimpses up at him amidst heavy lashes, gnawing along the inside of her bottom lip. “Want it off.”

Without hesitation, Harry sits forward a bit, lifting his arms above his head obediently. Y/N slowly rides the material up his toned stomach and over the swell of his hard chest, yanking the shirt off and letting it crumple to the ground. 

She shamelessly bounces her gaze all around his torso, from the rippling tendons along his shoulders, to the deep creases that separate his pectorals, to the graceful wings of the butterfly tattoo that ink his golden skin. She allows herself to be distracted by the flexing of his large biceps and the veins sculpted along his forearms and the back of his hands, which have found their way onto the subtle dips of her waist. 

She traces her digits over each aspect, reveling in how his muscles jolt beneath her feathery touch. She stencils over the skull and boat tattoo on his left arm, following the sharp peaks of the three nails and the tissues of the highly detailed heart. She trails upwards, looping her nail along the cursive “g” he’d had ingrained on behalf of his sister, and along the printed dates that lay in the nooks of his clavicle, which are a tribute to a part of his life she knows little about. Then, she mills down over the feathers of the birds suspended in flight, counting each one. 

She soaks up every faint detail painted across his body through the ridges of her fingerprints, admiring him in an instance of raw intimacy that he hadn’t received from anyone else in eons. He studies her with his lips parted in awe, ears tingling at her gentle, affectionate nature, not daring to interrupt. 

Y/N descends the dips of his collarbones towards the very center of his torso, winding to a stop when she mounts onto the rough scarring that runs down his stuttering chest. The wounds are old and faded, but even now— centuries later— their appearance communicates the pain they had yielded. The marks are jagged and uneven, obviously left by an animal with no compassion and an intent to kill. Harry’s scars had been a touchy subject for him for a long time— he had been using an illusion spell for decades as a means to cover them up, not trusting anyone to see the leftover strains of his humanity. 

All demons have some form of this scar on their bodies, whether it be teeth or claws, and it was purposefully inflicted to stain them for an eternity, as a reminder of who they are and who they belong to. It’s a leash, created to commemorate that he can’t outrun the disgraced identity of what he had become, and that his soul belonged to Lucifer, for as long as it exists. 

Due to the heaviness of this reasoning, he had kept them a secret from Y/N even after they had started dating. They were tied to so much emotional turmoil and undealt fear on his part, he had been terrified to bring them into his new budding relationship. He hadn’t revealed their existence until a few months ago, when he had felt comfortable enough to share them, and he was grateful that he had. 

She didn’t judge him for his afflictions and took the news rather well— almost too well, which had made him uneasy at first. Harry never would have expected that an angel, of all people, would help him come to terms with such a sensitive topic that had tormented him since he had been released from Hell, but she had taught him that he shouldn’t feel ashamed of something he couldn’t control. 

These scars were a part of who he is, and if anything, they were memorabilia of the caring, loving, brave person he once was in a previous life. She put into perspective a view that had never crossed his mind: he should feel proud of the marks, not embarrassed. He had given up his life to protect the people he loved and there was nothing more noble than that. Since then, Harry had taken down the mirage enchantment, and he wore his scars with pride instead of humiliation. 

This breakthrough had sunk deeper than just his emotional issues; she had cured him of his physical hesitations, too. Harry had never let anyone knowingly touch the marks until she came along and aided him in ridding his baggage, which goes to show that she truly holds a special place in his heart, despite the fact that it no longer beats. 

Y/N does that now, delicately nursing her graze over the healed claw wounds as the candlelight dances across their darkened appearance. She ducks down, pressing a tender kiss over each one, feeling his breathing catch beneath her lips. He takes a penetrating inhale through his nose, letting it out in one long sigh, managing to tame the minute red flag that had instinctively flared in the back of his brain. 

Y/N lifts her head back to level with Harry’s, cupping the sides of his neck and pecking at the stud pierced through his left eyebrow. “You okay?”

He clears his throat shakily, nodding passively. “Yeah, m’fine.”

She leans forward and speaks against the shell of his ear, the movement shifting him from within her, the head of his prick pressing deeper and causing a tiny noise to string his lungs. 

“You’re beautiful, y’know that?” 

Harry’s entire face flushes a burning red. He tries to play it off with a boast of humor and a snort. “Well, you sure know how to make a girl blush, don’t you?”

Y/N draws back, clasping his jaw in her palms and urging him to look up. Her irises hold a form of determined sincerity he often sees when she’s talking about something important, their message obvious: Stop deflecting. “I’m serious, H.” 

He’s well aware of the basis behind her words— it’s a check-in, of sorts, to make sure his old insecurities aren’t bleeding back into his recovery. On a surface level, he’d claim he doesn’t need his girlfriend treating him like a rehab patient, but below his ego, he’s thankful for her concern. 

The corners of his mouth quirk into a tiny reassuring smile, the smugness in his eyes dissolving into genuine affection. “I know. I’m alright, don’t worry.”

“Okay.” Y/N returns slowly, roping one of her arms across the back of his neck, palm flat between his shoulder blades as her other hand stays settled along the curve of his throat. “Just making sure.” 

“S’nice of you to do so.” Harry shrugs his brows nonchalantly, squeezing at her hips jestingly, voice ironic. “Especially now, while we’re sitting half-naked on a pentagram and I’m buried up to my balls.”

Y/N sputters into a round of easy giggles, the tension in the atmosphere turning to dust as he breaks out into a shit-eating grin, pinching at her sides playfully. 

“Probably not the best timing.” 

“Y’don’t say?” He marvels with an exaggerated expression, doing some boyish giggling of his own. 

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t pick up right where we left off.” His girlfriend murmurs suggestively, lifting her thighs a few inches and allowing herself to plop back down against his. 

The swift action makes his socked toes curl, bliss spiking across his veins, a pained grunt vibrating deep in his stomach. Y/N thumbs across his chin, sewing their lips together as she begins to rock over his cock, swaying her hips in small circles to get him wired up like before. Harry slumps back onto one palm, legs splaying carelessly as the other hand cups the dip of her spine, providing support. 

She starts off agonizingly slow, working his length with patient strokes that purposefully tighten when she gets to the top. She teases the tip, swimming in how he bites down onto the edge of her lower lip, brows creasing with intense need as his lashes flutter. He pants a strained, “Fuck.” under his breath, nails digging into the skin of her lower back as he starts to buck upwards ever so slightly, chasing the snug feeling she provides. 

Y/N sinks back down at the same gradual pace, gasping at the sensation of him stretching her out as wide as possible, feeling every chisel and bump on his skin grate against her walls. She’s doing this to play with him, but the collateral is that she’s putting off her own climax and it’s difficult to maintain a solid plan when her boyfriend’s angelic face goes slack, his sharp jaw dropping open as his rainforest green irises roll back into his head. 

His fluffy, frizzed curls drape over his forehead and stick to the water coating his temples, his chest gleaming with a thin sheet of sweat that he had worked up from before. Veins carve themselves along his neck and above his left eyebrow, his composure coming undone by the bundles and he can’t help the strangled groan that emits from the back of his throat, head falling to dangle between his shoulders. 

Y/N glances down to where their bodies connect, nearly drooling at the manner in which his fern tattoos stretch and contract with his clenching tummy, his skin tinging a desperate shade of red beneath the dark ink. She eases into a set medium rhythm, moaning softly every time her clit catches across his pelvis or dabs against the tiger head tattoo on his sticky thigh, leaving damp smears across each. “You’re just s-so fucking big, oh my God.”

Moist sounds jump against the matte walls of the living room, suspending in the heavy air above them and making it hard to breath. Y/N’s nails claw down one of Harry’s pecs, her other forearm bracing against the nape of his neck as she swings her hips back and forth around his prick, both of their orgasms inching closer to completion. 

By some miracle, her tee had managed to remain folded over her chest, but the increase in her thrusts gives it away to gravity. The shirt falls loosely down her torso, pooling around her thighs as they slap sloppily against his, the figure of her bouncing breasts imprinting through the fabric. Despite that image being prim and proper in front of his face, Harry barely pays mind to it, much more interested in her facial expressions and the noises she’s trying to stifle. “You like how full I make you feel? Like how I stretch you out? You’re such a snug little thing, darling.”

“I just—I can’t even—”

The palm he has resting on her lower back hikes upwards, his fingers fanning out across the center of her bare spine and pulling her closer until their chests meld. The cotton of her shirt rubs a rash into his skin but he honestly couldn’t care less. She’s close to him and her breath is smoking over his jugular, trickling past the region where a pulse would otherwise be present, his poise going up in flames that burn brighter than the ritual candles. “Never get tired of how well I fit between your thighs. Feels so right.”

Y/N grapples both hands down his strong back, massaging at the taut muscles that convulse with every plunge she gives, her forehead thunking down against the slope of his ticking jaw. Harry wrinkles the tapestry between the cracks of his fingers, using it to keep some type of hold on himself, his mind too occupied on the different shades kaleidoscoping past his faltering eyelids. 

Y/N speeds up her grinding, fully bouncing in his lap eagerly, his whole body jolting against the ground at the vigor behind her actions. She seems to be enjoying it way more than she expected, strokes unforgivable and wild. There’s no real rhyme to her movements, any strategy she’d had prior abandoned to pursue the pleasure that is quickly inflating the pit of her belly. 

Harry loves it. Y/N had been raised on always having a system of thought— a proposal to follow or rules to bend over backwards for— and the idea that he has her so whipped she’d decided to throw away her agenda and give into carnal desires— it has him twitching inside her. His sweet, pure, soft-spoken angel, so caught up in the heat of the moment that she’d traded in her morals to become a loud, filthy, pleasure-drunken mess. All for him.

Harry cranes his head forward, vision foggy as he stares off into the distance, feeling himself throbbing under her influence. His words are throaty and barely audible. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight.”

Y/N mewls softly in response, the vibrations muffled by his neck. His fist curls and releases repeatedly under the material of her shirt, itching to grab onto anything it can get but not wanting to part with the warmth her skin provides. Harry gulps thickly, speaking into the hair glued along her hairline, her sweat the scent of lavender and honey. “Fuck me.”

The angel huffs into his throat, a whimper running along the undercurrent of the bated breath. “I...I am. I think. Am I doing okay?” 

He chuckles into her locks, feeling her spasm around his cock at the coyness behind it. “Yeah, princess, you are. You’re doing so fucking good.”

And at this moment, a certain analogy dawns on Harry and he finds it utterly poetic considering the circumstances: Making love to Y/N is like a ritual. 

Though it’s a strange comparison, he’s willing to lay down his second life on it; the similarities his brain conjures are too satisfying to pass up. The plants and herbs he uses in his magic are present in her smell— it’s earthy, yet fresh and delicate, like flowers and sunshine and the sensation of a sunrise. The warm surge of power that travels along his blood when he’s casting a spell is depicted by the heat her lips bring, stemming from where they connect at the base of his throat, traveling through every crevice in his body and leaving a glowing comfort in its wake. The beauty of the gemstones he utilizes is in her physique— it’s in the way she smiles against his mouth, and in the way she giggles when he cracks a joke. It’s in the song-like aspect of her moans, and in the gorgeous shade of her skin amidst the lulled candlelight. The beauty is in her caring touch and soft demeanor, in the neediness she channels when she tugs his curls between her fingers, and in the milky suppleness of her chest and thighs. And most prominent, the fulfillment that comes with undergoing an incantation correctly is evident in the way she drives him to finish, the fizzing in his fingertips and the empty content in his belly identical down to the last drop. 

Giving Y/N pleasure is a ritual as much as any other he’s ever performed, and it’s one he’s more than happy to provide his whole being to. Harry has bedded a lot of people in his time— that’s not uncommon knowledge; immortality is practically synonymous with a high body count— but no one, human or otherwise, had ever made him spiral the way Y/N does. Not since he was mortal, at least. He’s learned that anyone can find a way to satisfy someone physically, but it takes a rare type of bond to truly satisfy someone down to their soul. That’s what Y/N was to him— that golden commitment that could gratify him down to his core. 

That same commitment grabs onto the hair along the back of his head now, nails raking up the middle of his back as she yanks him into another kiss that is full of clacking teeth and feverish tongues, his nose dying a darker shade of crimson. She spills a moan into his mouth and it singes his lungs. “‘I— ‘m close.”

“Yeah?” His teeth catch on her bottom lip, his hold on her body helping her rock against him at a rising flow. “Gonna cum for me?”

Y/N wobbles her head in a tipsy nod, their noses bumping as she rides him messily. “Wanna cum for you so bad.” 

Harry grunts into her mouth with every rough pound of her hips, having trouble forming valid sentences when she’s hugging around him so tightly. “Want to see how good I make you feel, baby. Think you can show me?”

“Y-Yeah. It feels so— oh!— so fucking good.” Her forehead collapses onto his, the tip of her nose running along the side of his. “Please, please, please.”

“That’s my fucking girl, hm?” The hand he has on the ground works as reinforcement as he leans against it to throw his hips upwards, meeting her thrusts. “Look at you, taking me so deep and loving every inch.” 

Y/N whines brokenly and he knows he’s got her right on the edge. 

“Can feel me in your tummy, can’t you? Touching that spot that makes your entire body shiver?”

She sobs into their slack kiss, gripping onto him like a vine. 

“Be a good girl and show me just how much you love my cock, hm? Show me how dirty my perfect little angel can be.”

Every nerve in Y/N’s body suddenly bursts, electricity shooting through every bone and concentrating at the bottom of her abdomen. Teeny gasps spurt out from her mouth as she continues rocking over him, the pleasure originating from between her thighs causing every one of her muscles to contract, her head falling backwards to hang off her neck and she’s lucky he has his hand between her shoulder blades or she would have toppled right off. Her thighs grow sore quickly, but she refuses to let her orgasms flush out at the same pace. She rides it out for all it’s worth, bright white lightning webbing across her closed eyelids as Harry tends her dangerously fast pulse with his warm tongue, murmuring encouragement against her sensitive skin. “You look so fucking gorgeous when you cum for me.”

In his opinion, she never looks more heavenly than when she loses herself like this. There’s a certain pureness that comes with dwelling in such a vulnerable state; it makes her skin glow— literally and metaphorically. The veins along her neck and jaw flare faintly, almost as if liquid skylight were pumping through them instead of blood. He watches with wonder as they crawl up along her cheeks and below her waterline, her eyes momentarily brightening below her eyelids. 

It’s a view he’s seen a handful of times, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to its beauty. 

Y/N’s climax begins to die down along with her irises, the bow in her stomach gradually untangling, and she gives a sudden clench as an aftershock. Harry had failed to realize he’d been teetering over the edge, as well, too caught up in watching her come undone to pay much attention to himself. That one squeeze shoves him over. 

A sharp tremor tumbles down his spine, his orgasm starting at the tips of his ears and the heels of his feet, racing up his thighs and down his heaving chest. It plunges into the pit of his belly and along the underside of his prick, radiating deep in his gut to the point where he thinks he might pass out at the intensity. He spurts inside Y/N in messy ribbons, pulling her into his arms and burrowing his face away into the crook of her neck, eyes snapping shut as a gurgled groan tears his throat to shreds. “Christ, that’s it, pet. That’s perfect, just don’t— shit— don’t stop.”

Y/N blindly cradles his head against her upper chest, scratching at the back of his skull and kissing along his hairline, swinging her hips in slow, deep circles to milk him of every last trace of bliss. Her voice is shaky and soft against his prickling scalp. “Love how warm you feel.” 

He’s spilling into her to the point where he feels like it’ll never stop, thighs and abdomen flexing as she draws his composure from him. All he feels is satin and all he tastes is her sugary skin as he throws the arm he has as support forward, clasping so tight around her lower back that if she wasn’t supernatural, he’s sure he would have snapped her in half. 

“Fuck, you’re so good to me.” He whispers into her throat, feeling the last trickles of ecstasy bead into her from his cock. “You’re fucking magical.”

Y/N gently coaxes his face from her neck, tilting his chin up so that their gazes meet. Their eyes are both groggy with exertion, but the specks of colors around their pupils are shining with a form of fulfillment that they only ever get from each other. She lifts her thighs attentively and he winces at the loss of friction, his cock falling limb against his inner thigh.

Y/N pets at his cheekbone lovingly, moving a stringy curl away from his face and planting a kiss to the corner of his swollen lips. “Love you.” 

“Yeah,” Harry clears the gravel from his words, cracking into a weak smile, irises twinkling like a million diamonds. “Love you, too.” 

He slowly falls onto his back on the tapestry, bringing Y/N down with him. She lays on top of him for a bit, ear pressed over the vacant area where a heartbeat was present centuries ago, her fingers following the outline of the many tattoos across his flesh. Harry’s own fingertips slink up and down the line of her spine, chalking out random shapes and words over her back, merely for the silky sensation that comes with touching her so gently. They stay like this for a while, bare and dreamy as his digits comb through his tangled curls, her cheek snuggled into his scarred chest as they watch shadows waltz in the buttery dim lighting. 

After what feels like decades, Y/N eventually rolls off of him onto the ground, hissing softly at the sting the occult object below angrily delivers.

Harry turns his flushed face towards his girlfriend, chin propped on his shoulder and eyebrows jumping up in concern. He sounds raspy and depleted. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think your tapestry likes me very much.” She scoffs, lifting her arm a smidge to show him where a vague burn mark is already fading. 

Her boyfriend jerks back in disbelief, narrowing his eyes at the disappearing patch. “Has it been burning you the whole time? Were you planning on telling me?”

Y/N shrugs leisurely, tucking her disheveled hair behind her ears and resting back against the stinging cloth, ignoring it out of stubbornness. “It wasn’t too bad before, but it seems to be grumpier now.”

“Yeah, maybe because you just came all over it.” He quips, laughing childishly when she reaches over and punches him in the shoulder.   

“This was your idea, Harry!” She protests, her argument half-aimed at the tapestry, despite the fact that it’s an inanimate object. Mostly. 

“Maybe so, but I get home court immunity.” The demon mocks, sticking his tongue out at her and wagging it humorously. 

Y/N’s hand lifts up once again to swat him on the head this time, but he catches her wrist and wrestles it towards his mouth, teeth gnashing as if to bite her. His girlfriend wrenches her fingers back, giggling nonstop when he chases after her. He turns entirely onto his side, scooting across the space between their bodies to burying his face into her neck, blowing raspberries where he knows she’s most ticklish. 

Y/N pushes against his chest, laughing fully now and smothering his nose with her palm to form a decent barrier. “Okay, enough!”

Harry’s fingers find their way to the sides of her torso, wriggling against her cushiony love handles. “I don’t think so.”

The angel writhes and squeals in his arms, the smile on her face easily outshining the sun. He leans forward and presses a caring kiss between her brows, his digits abandoning their post on her waist and instead tangling with her own. He brings her hand to his mouth, kissing across each knuckle and up the length of each finger, pecking at their pads delicately. The edges of his eyes wrinkle with smile lines, his dimples plucking into place, giving him a wholesome appearance despite the face jewelry and dark tattoos glinting under the candle flames.

Y/N tries to stifle a heartfelt grin, but her mouth refuses to obey, lips pursing into it without her approval. “Pest.”

Harry scoffs, pitching his voice higher for the hell of the joke, the result being a very shitty American accent. “Only for you.”

She leans forward and smears the tip of her nose against his, the gesture small but packed with affection. “Guess I’m just the luckiest person in the world, huh?”

“I’d go as far as to say the luckiest across all worlds, human, demon, and angel alike.” He returns her actions, blinking his sleepy lashes. “But I think that’d make me sound like a bit of a pompous dick.”

“Right. And you’re definitely not arrogant at all.” Y/N remarks, shaking her head with faux exaggerated agreement. 

“Exactly!” The snark in his tone is almost palpable. 

Y/N snorts at his expense, the couple falling into a comfortable silence afterwards, continuing to play handsies as the clock ticks off a few more minutes. Harry doesn’t seem to be in any hurry and therefore she isn’t either, feeling happy and content within the bubble of domesticity that had submerged around them. It’s an innocent form of love, accompanied by fleeting kisses and chaste touches, too sweet to burst so soon. Harry skims his index nail across the vanishing love bites littered across her neck, his finger hooking into the collar of her t-shirt and pulling back, a quick peek confirming that her chest is undergoing the same fate. 

He pouts up at her, grumbling under his breath. “Thought I’d get a picture. For bad days, y’know? But we waited too long.” 

Y/N sucks on her teeth with fake sympathy, yanking her shirt out of his grip and letting it fall back against her clavicle. “Sucks. Better luck next time, I suppose.”

Harry rolls his eyes dramatically, blowing air through his lips. “The pain of waiting. It’s worse than Hell. I would know.”

“I think you’ll survive.” She pats his cheek with finality, climbing up onto her forearms with the intention of sitting up. “Now why don’t we get our clothes back on. Can’t do a ritual naked, can we?”

“Well, technically—”

“Shut up and go put on your shirt.” 

Y/N busies herself with retrieving her leggings and panties from across the room, where Harry had so kindly tossed them in a fit of disinterest. She shimmies into her pastel blue lace undies and then her bottoms, the abrupt motions causing her to flinch at the ache throbbing deep between her thighs. He’d definitely kept good on his promise. 

She pulls her arms into her oversized shirt and fixes her bra back into place below it, well aware that if she lifts it up to get the job done, Harry will surely sprint across the room and offer to help— a cover for some much more lewd motives. She glances over at him as he finishes looping his belt, tucking his fitted tee into the brim of his high-waisted pants and dusting off his thighs. The bruises and teeth marks she had left behind have long faded by now, his skin as flawless as ever. Though the self-healing feature that comes with their supernatural status is handy, she finds herself wishing it acted a little slower at times. She’d just like to be able to admire her hard work. 

Harry saunters over the tapestry, stopping midway to set the apatite rock back in its designated spot for the spell, adjusting the candles back into frame and tending to the corners of the large cloth, straightening it out to get rid of the evidence their little escapade had left behind. He slides up beside her, leaning down to fetch the golden ritual bowl from the floor, tucking it between the inside of his elbow and hip. He slinks his head to the side as he watches her brush out the last couple flyaways from her hair, her appearance as pristine as before, not giving away a single clue as to what had unfolded not even twenty minutes prior. She reaches forward, finger-combing his curls into a presentable state and thumbing her tinted lip balm off the edges of his quirking mouth, tugging his inverted cross necklace from under his clothes and laying it against his chest with a content sigh.  

Harry lifts his brows up curiously, a certain smugness coating his expression. “All done cleaning up your mess?” 

Y/N narrows her eyes at him pointedly, mood deadpan and cool. “Yup. I’ll clean up yours later, which I think we can both agree is way sloppier than mine.” 

It takes him a second to understand, but then it hits him. She’s talking about jizz, which is probably pooling in the lace lingerie she has on right now, and for some reason that thought makes his ears and neck tint a bright rose. She muffles a laugh at his fidgeting; it’s so amusing to see Harry—who is normally so calm when it comes to raunchy topics— blushing up a storm. The tables have turned and it feels like solid karma on her part. 

“Let me just— uhm...” He stumbles over his words, mumbling them towards his feet as his eyes blink black for a millisecond, fingers fiddling with his lip ring. “I’ll just get the spell going.” 

“Mmhm.” 

Harry finds himself sitting in the same position as before, cross-legged in front of the giant satanic symbol, the antique pot resting on the floor before him. Y/N finds herself in the same position she’d taken previously as well, standing behind her boyfriend with her arms crossed loosely over her chest, looking over his shoulder with mild interest and a protective undertone. Harry mixes the contents in the bowl slowly with the muddler, whispering lowly what appears to be lines of a preparation enchantment. He’s priming the ingredients for use, making sure once again that all the powdered elements are all blended together well and are connected to all the gemstones loitered around the pentagram. Everything has to run on an identical wavelength for this to work, or else who knows what could crawl out of the gateway he’s about to unlock. 

Y/N is at ease— or at least as relaxed as she can be given the circumstances— as she watches Harry spew riddles in Latin and mix the disintegrated plants together, her demeanor soothed since everything seems to be unextreme. 

That is, until Harry sets down the basin and pulls his demon blade out of thin air— quite literally. He holds his hand above the dish and swiftly slashes open his palm, the gash spurting a heavy stream of black blood into the herbs. He clasps his fist shut, controlling the flow of liquid so it trickles cleanly instead of splattering, his spoken incantation continuing without a hitch. 

Y/N can’t help her reaction. She yelps out in startled fear, surging forward with angered worry flooding her features. “Oh my God, what the fuck, Harry?!”

The dumbfounded look on Harry’s face pricks her nerves. He’s staring at her with crinkled brows and parted lips, communicating that what had just happened isn’t anything out of the ordinary. His voice comes out just as mystified as his physique. “What? What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?!” His girlfriend shrieks, wild gaze bouncing back and forth between his bleeding hand and startled eyes. “I didn’t think— you just— that was—”

Harry continues to stare at her as if she’d sprouted devil horns. 

“I thought it’d just be a little blood!” She finally sputters out. “Like maybe you’d prick your finger or something! Not cut your hand open!”

The demon then has the audacity to break into laughter. He looks borderline psychotic, sitting on the ground nonchalantly, cackling as blood overflows from between the cracks of his fingers. “Darling, is that seriously what you expected? Have you not listened to a word I’ve said? Most advanced spells require blood, and when it’s a ritual as tedious as this one, it calls for quite a bit.” 

Y/N pushes down the bile threatening to rise up her throat, gawking with obvious disgust as her boyfriend reaches for the dish rag she’d brought him earlier, cradling his spilling hand into it and staining the snowman pattern pitch black. “I’m gonna be sick.” 

Harry sucks his teeth at her theatrics, giving her a humorous scowl. “Oh, c’mon, it’s not even that bad. And I’m finished! See!”

He holds up his wrapped hand for emphasis, the blood stain spreading wider over the cloth and Y/N can taste acid in her mouth. “Why isn’t it healing?”

The demon shrugs carelessly, wiping his onyx and diamond embedded knife across a clean patch of fabric on the towel. He tosses it up towards the ceiling, the weapon soundlessly disappearing in midair, back into the magical invisible locker it had come from. “Demon blade cuts take a little longer to heal. I’ll be good in a few minutes.”

“Bullshit.” Y/N grumbles, her concerned girlfriend meter running dangerously high. She crouches down to level with him, taking his enclosed fist into both of her smaller hands. “I’ll handle it.”

Her fingers begin to glow a faint neon blue, a soothing warmth undulating across the wound in his palm, his brows rising as he feels his skin begin to stitch closed. After a couple of seconds, Y/N releases his hand, unwrapping it gently and setting the rag down on the drapery so as to not stain the rug below. He uncoils his fingers and sure enough, the tear is gone. 

Harry curls and stretches his digits testingly, a pleasant hum running along the back of his throat. “Wow, that’s pretty neat. Got myself a proper doctor to patch me up after training matches now, huh?”

“Don’t make this a habit.” Y/N warns, pushing herself up by her knees. “And be more specific next time you want me to watch a blood sacrament. I don’t think I’ll be able to control my stomach again.”

Harry looks back down at his concoction, smirking softly. “Yes, ma’am.” 

He incorporates the liquid and dry factors together with a patience she oddly admires, the dusted plants dissolving into the blood as the mixture begins to bubble lightly. He’s taken up his satanic prayers once again, reciting the verses evenly as the brew amplifies from an easy simmer to a boil. The stones around the pentagram begin to glow with their corresponding shades— purple, green, amber— as the largest rock in the center washes the room in a hazy blue light, the fire within the candles rising in intensity. The sigils engraved in the metal bowl flare a fiery red, the golden lines of the occult star on the tapestry glowing as bright as its companions. 

Y/N begins to drift around the perimeter of the tapestry, drawing her arms across her torso as she rounds the far corner of the lengthy blanket, eyes trained on the shimmering pentagram. The longer she stares at it, the deeper her unsettlement roots. It’s as if the object is daring her to touch it again now that it’s been activated, teeming with power and capable of revenge. It’s tempting, for some unknown reason. The pull is undeniable and her fingertips itch to run across the unexplained dark stains that paint its surface, every cell in her body bending towards its energy and mystique. In order to curve the impulse, she finds herself running her socked foot along its edge, simply to sedate her strange need. As soon as she makes contact with it, it feels like she’s stepped on a bed of nails, the material glowing slightly brighter as if angered. 

Y/N jumps back slightly, quickly glimpsing up at Harry to check if he’d seen. To her sheer luck, he’s clueless, too focused on the churning in his bowl to pay her much attention. She goes about her business, pretending it never happened, though it feels as if the artifact is quietly laughing at her.

Once she gets to the opposite side of where Harry is seated, she comes to a slow stop, her sight peeling away from the demented mat and pinning onto her boyfriend. The potion in the bowl is now toiling violently, the carved glyphs shooting off sparks in every direction as the ritual delves into more volatile magic. Harry’s chanting swells to match the enthusiasm of the spell and for the first time since he had started, she is able make out the stanzas he’s quoting. She can’t deny that the words twist her stomach into knots. 

“Dico tibi usque ad foveas, ubi damnati habitant, alto in terram ferox canes inferni.”

I call upon the pits where the damned dwell, deep in the earth, unsound hounds of hell.

“Ortum ex sulphure et aeterna flamma, bestiæ gravehill cum tacita nomina.”

Rise from the brimstone and eternal flames, beasts of gravehill with unspoken names.

“Acuta de dente et longa ex ungue, nigro et tunicam et lata bulga.”

Sharp of tooth and long of claw, black of coat and gaping maw.

“Videte mea vocant et calcaneum meum erit, ut vobis notum est ubi habitabant molendinum.”

Heed my call and heel my will, make yourselves known upon the realm where the living mill.

Harry repeats the incantation over and over, each run-through amping in volume and lowering in pitch. With every reiteration, his voice drops another octave and Y/N’s ears pop when he breaches past the human hearing spectrum. It dives into unnatural territory, beginning to sound less and less his own, almost as if an array of spirits were possessing his body and using his tongue as a channel. She listens attentively, noticing that his typical accented drawl has started to split into multiple dark voices, each one a different tone and texture. Some are grating and baritone, while others are raspy with more trill, but the similarity shared among the various articulations is that they’re all religiously spewing the same lines in unison. Collectively, the sound created makes her bones splinter and her blood boil. The event is what she imagines it would be like if all the demons in Hell were to chant all at once. It’s terrifying and mesmerizing in the same breath. 

A bizarre fog begins to collect around the center of the pentagram, the smoke from the candles mixing with colored tendrils of vapor that stem from the gemstones, forming a loose spinning cloud around the apatite rock in the middle. The artificial tornado— which stretches up to the ceiling— picks up speed to keep in timing with Harry’s monologue, creating a draft that wafts across the tapestry but doesn’t spill beyond its bounds. Y/N squints, managing to make out the image of her boyfriend from amidst the magical phenomenon. What she sees gives her pause. 

The first thing she notices are the veins. The usual black arteries have emerged below his waterline, creeping down his cheekbones and defining the darkness below his lashes. However, they don’t halt at his cheeks. They web across his entire face, down his jaw and up to his ears, licking down his neck and beneath the collar of his shirt. His eyes, which she had expected would ink black due to the situation, catch her ever further off guard. They’re not black at all, but instead a color that for some reason ices her heart: they’re tinted a haunting red. It looks as if human blood had been pumped into his irises and poured over the white area surrounding them, the reflection of the satanic star in front of him seeming crueler upon this shade. Trailing further down, Harry’s soft lips have spread into a wide grin that sends an uncomfortable shiver down her spine. It’s different from his usual smirk, appearing sinister and evilly delighted and she vaguely wonders if sorcery brings any pleasure, or if it hurts. 

Y/N had never thought on it before, but now that she's standing here watching the detached smile on Harry’s face grow, it peaks her interest. Or rather, it peaks her concern. She speaks up, soft and scared. “Are you okay?”

Harry’s lips don’t stray from the spell and his eyes don’t wander from the center of the pentagram, simply nodding his head in response as he continues blindly mixing the ingredients below his hand.

The fog has thickened heavily, twisting with more vigor and it eventually becomes so opaque that Y/N can barely make out Harry’s silhouette across the room. The flames of the candles suddenly swell grandly, casting new shadows across the walls of their home and when she focuses on them intently, figures start to form in the images. They’re distinctly humanoid, prancing across the matte surface of their flat, ebbing and flowing to the rhythm of Harry’s hex. An uneasy coldness trickles down the back of her neck and she realizes that what she’s looking at is a portal into Hell— the shadows are the outlines of the souls within the realm. 

She thinks she’s gonna be sick. 

As she looks on, two of the dark shapes begin to morph before her watering eyes, shrinking down into a form that looks faintly like the body of a hound. Gradually, all of the other figures begin to burst into dust against the walls, disintegrating away one by one as the two main shadows solidify from blurred sketches into hard silhouettes. She can make out their shoulders and lean torsos, limbs dipping and rising as if they were walking towards something. 

The hue of the cyclone spontaneously changes from multicolored into a blood red that matches Harry’s eyes, its spinning vapors slowly starting to thin out. The fires surrounding the tapestry begin to die down from their agitated state, the gemstones following their lead. As the smoke and fumes gradually dissolve, the two figures that had been glued to the wall seem to have come unstuck and jumped into the eye of the miniature tornado. Their dark appearance chisels itself into reality and the longer she gawks, the more real they become. A large paw the size of her hand here, a matted patch of black fur there. Claws the size of her fingers and teeth so ghastly white she winces at their brightness. A tattered ear, a huge wet snout, and suddenly two pairs of red beady eyes flash by her vision. 

Y/N scrambles back from the edge of the mat, heart lodged in her throat. She’s definitely going to be sick. 

Harry’s praying has died down in intensity, as well, lulling back into a barely audible murmur. He slowly stops mixing the muddler, propping it along the side of the metal bowl and setting it down off to the side. As soon as his hands remove themselves from the pot, the glowing sigils extinguish and the satanic star abruptly stops shimmering, the half-melted candles and enchanted rocks blowing out along with them. The demon’s chanting dies off permanently, an eerie silence falling across the living room as the last traces of smoke dissipate. 

Standing at the center of the tapestry, looming on all fours and at least five feet in height, are Onyx and Nimbus. 

Y/N is relieved to say they’re not as terrifying as what she’d imagined. She thought she was accepting two distorted monsters into her apartment, but in actuality, the two hellhounds look pretty normal. Their coat is coal black, matted in some areas with a dried liquid she really doesn’t want to know the identity of, and they resemble Labradors. Just three times the size and with eyes of burning embers. 

She studies them as much as she can from her position behind their backs, noticing that the slightly buffer hound has a jagged scar running across its left eye and a tear in its right ear. She gets the feeling that’s Onyx. Harry had told her that he was the more rash and unhinged of the two, so it makes sense that he's scruffed up. The other dog is slightly more delicate in frame, less bulky and more lean, its figure almost feminine despite the fact that both are males. Without a doubt in her mind, that has to be Nimbus— his name fits his presentation. 

In ancient scriptures, nimbuses float above the heads of the divine, but what humans don’t know is that they are actually shape-shifting angelic weapons. Halos look delicate, but are strong and can withstand just about anything since they are created out of pure celestial energy, wielded and harbored into a physical form. They don’t look like much, but are capable of dangerous results, and something tells Y/N that this dog fits that description. He doesn’t seem to have any battle wounds and his coat is cleaner and shinier than his partner’s, giving her the impression that he’s somewhat sane and level-headed. She can already tell she’s going to get along better with Nimbus than Onyx. 

Harry and the hellhounds contemplate each other, the veins across her boyfriend’s face fading away into his skin, the red tint retracting from around his pupils. He pushes himself up from the floor with a light grunt, dusting off his lap and rolling out his neck and shoulders as if to relieve tension. He combs his curls back from his forehead, muscular arms crossing over his broad chest, head tilting expectantly at his dogs. 

A long moment of silence treds by, and then Onyx’s deep voice booms inside Harry’s head, as sarcastic and sharp-tongued as always. 

‘Fucking finally, you prick.’

Harry breaks out into a round of easy laughter, stepping forward with his hands outstretched and Y/N watches in awe as the two humongous beasts cradle their snouts into his palms. “I’m sorry it took a while. Fashionably late and all that.” 

Onyx is unrelenting, narrowing his cherry red eyes at Harry. ‘I thought you were gonna keep us waiting for another century. Took your sweet ass time then, didn’t you?’

“It wasn’t on purpose! I got...caught up with something.”

Nimbus’ softer, high-pitched voice chimes inside Harry’s skull, less abrasive than his brother’s but its words pack just as much bite. ‘I thought you’d forgotten about us. Was already daydreaming about what your liver was gonna taste like.’

Harry scoffs in dramatic insult, scratching behind the dogs’ ears gently, thumbing over the rip in Onyx’s cartilage. “I’d never forget about you two! The fact that you thought I would…Hurts my black little heart.” 

Nimbus huffs in amusement, shaking his head at his owner’s ironic pout. ‘What heart?’

The demon’s grin widens. “Exactly.”

Y/N watches the whole exchange with confusion pinching her face. From her perspective, as someone who lacks a telepathic connection to the two guests, the whole conversation appears one-sided. Harry is the only one actually talking aloud and though she can keep up with the simplicity of this specific conversation, she can already tell that her inability to communicate with them is going to get annoying. She doesn’t know how to go about introducing herself and she doesn’t want to interrupt their reunion, so instead she keeps her distance, arms tightening around her torso as her fingers squeeze at the inside of her elbows— a nervous mannerism. She’s perfectly fine being an onlooker at the moment. 

According to the bits and pieces of the dialogue that Y/N is able to catch from Harry’s behalf, he and his friends seem to be catching up on the last couple of weeks. Most of the subjects mentioned file under harmless gossip about other demons and hellhounds, though Lucifer’s name does pop up here and there. Harry talks about how he’s been rotating stations regularly between combat training and occult practices, and from the way Onyx huffs at certain mentions of magic, Y/N can tell he has more of Harry in him than Nimbus does. 

He’s always preferred combat, despite his impressive expertise in sorcery. There’s no invisible trickery in sparring like there is in witchcraft; everything is calculated, from the footwork to the strokes of a blade, and there’s just something so satisfying about taking down an opponent with nothing but physical force of will. Onyx appreciates that, while Nimbus thinks it’s “barbaric” and “outdated.” To each their own, Harry supposes. He gets the feeling Nimbus will get along with Y/N fairly well, once they get past the initial default hatred. 

Harry had been so distracted swapping stories and bonding with his hounds for the last few minutes that he almost forgets Y/N is there, standing at the other end of the room using the shadow from the spiral staircase as a hiding place. 

He clears his throat softly, sewing his words carefully to try and find a civil way to break the ice about his relationship. “So, I’ve got some news.”

The two dogs blink up at him, eyes shining brighter with curiosity. Onyx’s passively joking voice echoes in his head. 

‘Oh, this should be good. Last time you said that, we got the story of how you almost slept with Stevie Nicks.’ 

Harry’s teeth crunch and he’s thankful Y/N can’t hear the exchange. “Trust me when I say it’s something pretty different from the usual.” 

Nimbus sits down casually on top of the tapestry and even in a submissive position, his ears still easily level with Harry’s shoulders. ‘As if we’ve never heard that before.’

Onyx follows his brother’s lead, posture less eloquent, shoulders sagging and back hunched. He takes a small pause, sniffing at the air and then shaking out a harsh sneeze. ‘Before you start, I think something died in your air vent. Can’t you smell it?’

Nimbus nods in agreement, copying the other hound’s gesture and making a hacking sound in the back of his throat. ‘It absolutely stinks in here. Could smell it even before we crossed the threshold.’

‘Yeah.’ The scar-faced dog leans forward and sniffs at his master’s shirt, gagging and grunting. ‘It’s all over you, H.’

Harry immediately knows what they’re referring to: Y/N. Harry had gotten used to the squeaky clean smell that chases angels, due to the fact that they had been living together for months now. But this is the first time Onyx and Nimbus have been exposed to her presence. Their heightened senses don’t help the situation any.

Harry wrings his hands, twirling his ruby ring nervously around his pinky. “That actually has to do with what I wanted to tell—”

Onyx interrupts him, dark eyebrows scrunching as he takes an even deeper whiff than before, snout twitching. ‘It kinda smells like…’

He trails off, looking over at his sibling in bewilderment. Nimbus nods once in confirmation, startled voice resonating in Harry’s head. ‘It does, but that wouldn’t make any sense…’

The demon glances over their heads anxiously, watching his girlfriend shift her footing with unease. She can tell the dogs are sussing her out. 

Harry feels Onyx’s eyes bore into the side of his face, following along to his gaze and glancing over his shoulder questioningly. ‘It smells like—’

Harry panics, trying to cause a distraction to buy himself some time to explain. “Well, actually—”

But it’s too late. Onyx’s sight lands on Y/N’s still silhouette across the room, eyes widening in shocked alarm, which immediately molds into burning hatred. Nimbus chases his brother’s view, spotting the girl instantly, as well. His pupils dilate, reflecting the same cruel intentions as his relative. Their voices snarl in unison inside Harry’s brain. 

‘Angel.’

Y/N— who has quickly come to terms with being outed into the open— raises one of her hands and waves awkwardly, voice meek and unsure. “Hi.”

Hellhounds are top predators across all the worlds, mortal and supernatural alike, and that’s no secret to anyone aware of their existence. They were created with a purpose to hunt and kill, their characteristics hand-picked to perfection to succeed in their mission. Their reflexes are razor sharp and their physical abilities support their instincts flawlessly, which is why it takes them less than three seconds to spot and recognize an enemy, less than two to hone in, and less than one to pounce. If it wasn’t for the fact that Y/N was made with rivaling skills and celestial impulses, her head would have ended up rolling across the ground before she could bat an eyelash. 

She jumps sideways not a second too soon, the two beasts baring down onto the spot she had just been occupying, teeth gnashing and claws scraping against the polished hardwood ground. The angel stumbles back a few feet, horrified beyond what she had expected. They had been so calm not even a minute prior, and now they’re examining her jugular with a type of hostility that sends ice through her blood. 

The hellhounds split ranks, circling around her with spit frothing at their maws and penetrating growls scratching at her hot ears. They size her up bitterly and she may not be able to read their minds, but she can read emotions just fine and the murderous intent behind their attitude is unmistakable. 

Y/N’s fight or flight mode kicks in, electricity crackling defensively across the tips of her twitching fingers, her irises sparking a bright blue glow in warning. The dogs hesitate, the white hot lightning in her hands mirroring across the glossy surface of their crimson eyes as their claws crunch into the ground below their paws. Not a word is exchanged, but the challenge hangs in the air, heavy as the stench of sulfur that wafts from their fur. 

If it wasn’t for Harry’s peace-keeping, the tapestry would have ended up adding some fresh stains to its extensive collection. 

The demon scrambles forward, cementing himself between his dangerous girlfriend and his very lethal pets, arms out to block any possible attacks. “Stop!”

The hounds glance up at him momentarily amidst their snarling, catching the way his eyes paint blank, his mood authoritative and serious. “Desino.”

Heel.

Nimbus is the first one to accept the ceasefire, which Harry’s extremely thankful for. For once, he admires the animal’s general distaste towards violence. The dog slowly draws back, the hair sticking up along his spine gradually giving way. He remains standing, but abandons his fighting stance for a less intimidating alternative. However, the glare on his face doesn’t fade. 

Harry turns his attention towards Onyx, who is still sneering and baring his fangs, pacing back and forth in barely contained rage. The venom in his voice stings the back of Harry’s skull. ‘Intruder.’

Harry repeats his phrase from before, teeth grating and stare unwavering, establishing dominance over the mutt. He knows how stubborn Onyx can be, but he didn’t spend seven hundred years taming him for nothing. “Desino. Now, Onyx.”

After another round of growling and a few more dirty looks, the broad dog finally retracts, begrudgingly taking the seat next to his brother. He huffs in protest, but bends to Harry’s will nonetheless.

Y/N swallows heavily, the rods of electric current popping across her fingers slowly dying down along with the glowing around her pupils. She clenches her fists at her sides, forcing down her fear until her face shows a stoney facade of indifference. Concealing weakness is something she had been raised on. 

Harry releases a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, shoulders slumping and back unknotting. “Thank you.” 

The two sides contemplate each other coldly, all the bloodshed avoided concentrated in their gazes instead. Harry’s never been afraid of Y/N in any way— her gentle nature makes it almost impossible— but the look behind her eyes at the moment is enough to make any demon back off. He slowly lowers his arms, glimpsing back and forth between his two friends and his significant other, making sure neither will make a drastic move. 

He turns towards his dogs, sighing grandly through his nose before releasing a strained cough. He tries to put humor into his tone, but it proves difficult. “Surprise, I guess.” 

Both of his charges snap their head in his direction, their expressions anything but amused. Onyx’s gruff voice yells in his head first. 

‘Surprise?! Is this a joke to you? What the fuck is that thing doing here?’

“She,” Harry corrects in a cautionary manner, “is my girlfriend. This is Y/N.” 

The hounds break into telepathic screaming chaos. 

‘Are you insane? Have you actually lost your fucking mind?’

‘Out of all the demons and humans to ever exist, you pick an angel? You choose one of those brainwashed stuck-up prudes?’ 

‘Does Lucifer know? Does God know?!’

‘You have a death wish. For fuck’s sake, you genuinely have another death wish.’

‘Now that we know, does that make us accomplices? Would Lucifer kill us, too? There’s no way I’m dying for your hate kink booty-call.’ 

“Enough!” Harry’s voice booms, loud enough that it echoes across the apartment, stern and unwavering. “She’s my girlfriend and I love her. She’s a part of my life now, just as much as you two are, and you’re going to learn to respect and live with that. Do I make myself clear?” 

For the first time since they arrived, radio silence washes across his mind. 

Harry’s temper flares and he mumbles a spell beneath his breath, a puff of black smoke enveloping the large monsters. It dissolves as quickly as it had appeared and in their place sit two tiny, caramel brown chihuahuas, yapping and jumping in the air angrily. 

Y/N stifles a laugh with the back of her hand. 

Harry clears his throat mockingly, crossing his arms over his strong chest and leaning down to their level. “Unless you want to permanently stay in this form, you’re going to agree.” 

One of the puppies— probably Onyx— snaps his teeth at the demon’s ankle. Harry grabs his entire snout with his palm, easily wrestling the hyperactive mutt to the ground. Y/N can’t cap her giggle this time. 

“Now,” black veins flash under Harry’s eyes for a millisecond, “do I make myself clear?”

Nimbus pipes up quietly, sass evident but not enough to cause concern. ‘Yes.’

Harry turns his focus to Onyx with an expectant aura, waiting for his promise. After a few seconds of headstrong silence and trying to gnaw at his owner’s fingers, the dog’s response comes through, low and relinquished. ‘Yes.’

“Perfect.” 

Harry rises up from his knees, snapping his fingers with a happy sigh. Another puff of dark smoke later, two full grown black German Shepherds sit before him and Y/N, eyes the color of rich chocolate and coats black as night, shining like a thousand jewels. Onyx’s scars are nowhere in sight, disguised away along with everything else. 

Harry reaches over and tugs Y/N into his side, hanging an arm nonchalantly across her shoulders and planting a sloppy kiss to her temple, which in turn makes her nose wrinkle. “You’re all going to get along great. Just give it a few centuries.” 

She shifts on her feet, shrugging one shoulder lightly as she glances at the dogs gingerly, grateful for their more acceptable appearance. A dog whose height reaches mid-thigh is much easier to handle than one who surpasses her neck. “I’ll give it go if they will.” 

“See?” Harry squeezes and shakes her playfully. “Baby steps, boys! Baby steps.”

The German Shepherds huff and sneeze and Y/N gets the feeling they’re cursing her out in secret. A look at Harry’s entertained face confirms her suspicions. 

Her boyfriend nudges her cheek with the tip of his cold nose. “Could you do me a favor, sweetheart? Could you run upstairs and fetch me those collars I made? I left them on top of the nightstand.”

Harry had bought two chain collars at Petco earlier that week in anticipation for this day, as well as for the fact that the two dogs looked absolutely identical in their mortal-friendly forms. He’d fastened a polished onyx stone to one and a golden metal hoop to the other, corresponding with their given names and giving their personas a bit of extra pizazz. It was better than a regular leash with an embroidered name; the custom collars are a neat way of distinguishing them and frankly, quite the fashion statement, in his opinion. Expensive jewels and gold never go out of style. Plus, it’s going to look great with their dark fur. 

Once Y/N’s trotting footsteps are out of earshot, Harry turns to his hellhounds, kinking a brow offhandedly when he catches them staring at him with half-lidded eyes. “What?”

Nimbus scoffs in his mind. ‘I’m just impressed, is all. I never thought I’d see the day you, of all demons, would settle down.’ 

Harry chuckles softly, tangling his ringed fingers through his roots and tucking curls behind his small ear. “Neither did I, trust me.”

After a pause, the canine speaks up again, all snark replaced by genuine concern. ‘Does she make you happy? 

The demon scruffs the tip of his socked foot against the corner of the satanic tapestry, folding and unfolding the edge distractedly. A dreamy smile smudges his dimples across his cheeks. “She makes me really happy, yeah. Haven’t felt like this since I was alive.”

Nimbus rises from his seat, leisurely coming up besides Harry and rubbing up against his leg almost comfortingly. ‘You know we’ll stand by you through any decision you make...but is this really worth the risk, Harry?’

“It is.” His answer is automatic without any hesitation whatsoever. “I don’t have a single doubt about her.”

Nimbus lays down on the drapery, folding his paws over each other and resting his chin on top, eyes softening with empathy. He had always been the understanding one out of the two siblings. ‘You better be careful, then, and keep this under wraps. We’d already heard rumors bouncing around back home. We didn’t think they were true— no one really does— but if you’re not careful, this could blow up in your face.’

Harry exhales, nodding solemnly. “I know.” 

Onyx breaks his hiatus, voice piping up from where he’s remained seated. ‘This is stupid. You’re a moron, y’know that?’

The young man gives him a taunting scowl. “Y/N thinks I’m a moron, too. Now you have some common ground to build on, eh?” 

His pet doesn’t even blink at the joke. ‘This is gonna come back to bite you in the ass. Even if Lucifer lets it slide, I highly doubt God would be okay with you screwing one of his minions. And once he gets wind, no one’s gonna be able to save you. Not the Boss, not the angel, and not any of your friends. You’re putting everything on the line. Are you prepared to face those consequences?’

Harry sighs in exasperation, shoving his hands in his pockets and tightening his fingers until his rings imprint across his skin. “I know, alright? I’m not a fucking child. I can make my own choices and deal with the aftermath. Just let me be. I deserve a little happiness after everything I’ve been through.”

It goes quiet for a while, the only sound being the thrum of the air conditioning and Y/N rummaging around upstairs. Onyx finally talks once more, mood less harsh and strangely accepting. 

‘You’re going soft, H.’

Harry laughs boyishly, looking up at the ceiling and shaking his head in amusement. “Only a bit. Caring for someone tends to do that to you.”

‘Yeah, well, you were definitely caring for her before we got here. Hence why her stench is all over you.’

The demon gifts his hound a deadpan expression. “Bold words from someone who smells like rotting flesh.” 

‘That’s a compliment.’ Onyx snuffs sarcastically, finally walking over and taking the spot besides Nimbus on top of the blanket. ‘Her smell really is everywhere, the entire room reeks. Out of all the places, it had to be in the room you used to summon us? Are you serious? Have some respect.’ 

“If you’re that mad that we had sex in the same room, then I probably shouldn’t tell you exactly where we did it.” He glances down at the tapestry below them suggestively, shrugging his brows smugly.

Both of the German Shepherds copy his action, their dark brown eyes filling with extreme disgust as realization dawns, irises flitting bright red. They both tumble up onto all fours, snorting and snarling in angered disbelief as they bound off the tapestry, pawing and rubbing up against the rug below it as if to clean off whatever they’d just laid in.

Both of the hellhounds’ voices shriek in his ears, so appalled that it sends Harry into a round of evilly delighted, full-bellied laughter. 

‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.’

[mageofseven]

(´・ω|—|—|—|

hewoo.. its me, shy blob..

May I request how the demon bros react to Simeon and MC's secret relationship?

(///▽///) if its too much, I'm sorry!

m(_ _)m forgive meee

Aww hello shy blob! I'm actually planning to include such a scene in my Simeon section of MC's Pregnancy and Birth. However, I guess I can make a non pregnancy version of this too~

I hope you like it 🥰

~

The couple's relationship was discovered by little Luke. Despite making him promise to keep it a secret, the little boy accidentally made it slip one day and now the brothers know MC and the angel are dating.

Lucifer:

Laughs somewhat bitterly and without humor.

If there was any doubt MC descended from Lilith, that doubt would now be erased.

His sister, an angel, risked everything to be with a human despite every unspoken rule in the three realms telling her that she shouldn't.

Now MC, a human, has fallen in love with Simeon of all people?

Did they truly realize all they were risking? Surely they must know somewhat since they tried to hide it for who knows how long but still.

Lucifer feels a sense of...well, as if history was repeating itself in a way and his worry for MC was immeasurable.

Lectures the couple fervently

But upon hearing MC's pleas and how they talk about their love for Simeon, the oldest had a flashback to the day he discovered Lilith's interest in her human and how he originally treated her...

Lucifer didn't want to make that same mistake twice, but there was confusion with in him about what truly was the mistake: trying to separate Lilith from the human originally or giving in so soon afterwards?

He didn't know, but as he looked into MC's eyes, he could practically hear his sister begging too, telling him to help them in some way.

The Avatar of Pride sighed. He didn't know what to do for them if word got back to the Celestial realm about them. Simeon would undoubtedly be punished and the two would be split up, but what if his Father wanted to punish MC too? What then?

Their relationship could fracture the delicate political progress Lord Diavolo has made towards peace.

Tells MC he will look into some things to see if something can be done for the both of them

And eventually has a private talk with the angel, wanting to hear from him that this is all real and that Simeon is not playing some cruel game with the human.

Upon hearing the man's struggles, about how hard he fought to keep MC at arms length, but failed and fell so hard for them, the demon pursed his lips.

For now, Lucifer tells the angel keep it from others and make sure Luke doesn't spread the news farther than he already has.

The less that know, the more time a plan can be made.

Overall, Lucifer is frustrated by the news but somewhat sympathetic.

Mammon:

Real jealous, ngl

I mean, he's their first! Why the hell does Simeon get to date them?

All of that aside, the second brother is worried for MC though.

I mean, yeah, technically Lilith got her happy ending, but just barely. Like, it literally took a miracle by Lord Diavolo to salvage things from the tragedy that almost happened to her.

So what's stopping things from turning to tragedy for MC and Simeon?

Complains a lot to MC about how he should be their man, but in truth, just doesn't want the human to get hurt.

Leviathan:

Hides away in his room in self pity

Because of course MC would rather be with an angel like Simeon instead of a yucky otaku like him.

It's not until after he's been sulking in his room for two days that MC's situation fully sinks in.

Are...are they really gonna be okay? At best, Simeon might get punished and taken from them. At worst...the third brother didn't wanna think about it.

Suddenly feels like such a dick for making this about himself.

He really wants to help his Henry...but doesn't feel like there's anything he can do for them.

Satan:

Is immediately bitter upon hearing the news but is curious.

How long has this relationship been going on?

He's honestly surprised that they were able to keep this from him and his brothers this whole time.

He doesn't really see himself as an expect on Angelic culture; after all, a lot of the Celestial realm's inner workings are kept a secret to most. Many things you simply cannot read within books.

However, he knows enough about what happened to Lilith to know that this news is...concerning.

The Celestial realm is strict with their angels and won't be happy to hear that Simeon has fallen in love with a human.

This...he'll have to discuss with his brothers on how to keep MC safe if things turn dangerous for the couple.

It honestly seems inevitable that this will end in heartbreak for the human, but if they can at least keep them safe physically, that's something.

Asmodeus:

"Oh. My. Devil. Why didn't you two tell me??"

Hugs the two and tells them how cute they are together.

Asks a million questions.

When did they start dating? How serious is it? Who asked who out? Describe the moment!

Don't get him wrong though; he does understand how serious this is because of what Lilith went through.

Unlike his brothers though, believes that things might end up okay. I mean, surely this situation is different enough from before that the two could have a happy ending?

While his brothers are waiting tensely for the situation to blow up in the couple's faces, Asmo is keeping his eyes on all the good that can come from this.

The Avatar of Lust just wants to the two to be happy.

Let's his brothers prepare for dooms day or whatever; Azzy would rather be positive and remind the two that even when things look dark that their love for each other is important and worth the fight.

Beelzebub:

The only one of his brothers to immediately worry about MC's safety.

Most of his brothers were either more concern with their own feelings, either of frustration or unrequited love, but Beely just wanted to keep MC out of harm's way.

He already lost his sister to the Celestial realm's strict rules and he wouldn't be surprised if they've gotten even stricter since then.

The big guy really hoped that both MC and Simeon can make it out of this okay.

Not much of a planner, but trusts that Lucifer will think of something and is on standby, waiting to be told what to do.

Belphegor:

Pissed, but scared.

Blames all of this on Simeon.

That fucker knows the consequences to this shit, but he still chose to drag MC into it?

Is held back by Beel as he yells at the angel to stay the fuck away from MC.

After a long argument between the himself, the couple, and his brothers, the Avatar of Sloth realizes that nothing is gonna change.

Starts yelling at Lucifer to do something because things cannot repeat themselves. He can't lose MC like he lost Lilith.

Really doesn't care what the Celestial realm does to Simeon, but he will be damned a second time before he let's anything happen to MC.

[thatweeboverthereisthirsty]

Hello! Can I request hcs for your top 5 favorite characters when they find out their fem s/o vapes/smokes? Have a nice day~💕

I loved writing these ngl. Also I did six because I have no idea how to choose between these guys. 

Characters: Leona, Ruggie, Floyd, Kalim, Idia, Malleus

Warnings: smoking&vaping, overdramatic teenage boys (leona isn’t a teenager, does malleus count?)

Leona:

He didn’t peg you to be that kind of person, but there was no doubt that you were vaping

He had smelled the weed on you a few times but didn’t comment. It was common for there to be clouds of vape in the bathrooms at school so he figured you had just walked through one

At first he wouldn’t comment, but he would watch you do it and keep track of how many times you took a hit and how frequently you pulled your pen out during the day

If he felt like there was nothing serious to worry about then he might let it fly a few times only commenting on how he hated the smell to try and persuade you to do it less often

If he was concerned about the amount of vaping you did, he would probably just steal all your stuff at first to see if you would stop

If that didn’t work then he would confront you about it asking why you started and how long you’ve been doing it

It’s unlikely that he’ll be super upset about it but he will ask you to stop and provide you with other solutions if needed

He prefers the you that isn’t higher than the clouds

After learning more about vaping and the fact that by inhaling toxic metals you could potentially die then he would put up more of a fight

If it got to the point where he was really concerned he might take you to a rehab center just so they could get you to stop (even if you weren’t addicted)

Ruggie:

Wait what?! You smoke!!!

He stares in shock as you pull the cigarette away from your mouth and blow out a large puff of smoke

No no no no no no no no!!!!!!!!!

Already running up to you and snatching the cigarette out of your hands

“Ruggie!”

Absolutely not. He’s seen enough people in the slums turn to smoking or that might even be the reason they were in the slums to begin with. 

He knows the cost. He has seen people die, or get violently sick, or run out of money because they smoke

It is not something he’s gonna watch you go through

Probably gonna yell at you about how awful this is for you before finding all your cigarettes and soaking them before chopping them into little pieces and throwing them away

He’s got a great sense of smell so if he smells nicotine on you again he would get really upset

Ruggie cares about you a lot but would still most definitely threaten you to get you to stop

If he threatens to end your relationship to that means he’s certainly worried about your health

He doesn’t care how you started in the first place he justs wants you to stop

Would totally beg Leona to pay for rehab

Would also totally drag you there

Floyd:

Eh? What’s little shrimpy doing?

Has zero clue what a vape is or how it works, but it looks fun let him try it too

You’re probably hesitant cause he doesn’t know what it is and if Azul and Jade found out they might get mad

He’s gonna try it anyways

Literally has no idea how to use it and probably ends up inhaling his own spit instead

He wants to know how you make clouds with your breath though, and oh! You can make it into shapes!

Definitely gonna ask Azul and his big brother about it

They casually explain what vaping is and what it does. They also tell him that it’s bad for you and he shouldn’t try it

“Huh? But little shrimpy does it all the time?”

Que a further explanation and advice on how to help you stop

He’s gonna pest you about it all the time now

“You didn’t swallow any clouds again today did you?”

“No Floyd I didn’t swallow any clouds”

It’s very easy for him to get you to stop since he’ll just squeeze you everytime he catches you doing it

And when he finds your pen he will pick it up and throw it away

Has he seen your vape? Of course not. Why would Floyd know where your cloud machine went?

Every time you get sick he accuses you of vaping too much

“You wouldn’t be stuck in bed all day if you hadn’t swallowed so many clouds, shrimpy.”

Kalim:

Immediate panic

“JAMIL!!!!!”

Literally Jamil does not have time for this

Tells him to calm down and just ask you about it

Ok yeah. Kalim can do that. He’s calm

He’s not calm

Forgets to ask you about it and instead asks if you wanna go for a ride

Legit takes you to a rehab center and cries at the front desk about you for like 40 min

The people ask you a few questions and determine that no you’re not addicted and tell Kalim that everything is gonna be fine

You are literally so confused right now

When you guys get home he can’t stop asking questions and telling you that it’s bad to smoke

Will bribe you to get you to stop

“I’ll buy you whatever you want just don’t do that”

Literally 100x more panicked than any other normal person

“BUT WHAT IF YOU DIE!!!!!!”

Doesn’t want to leave your side in case you do it again when he’s not looking

Jamil is 200% done with the dramatics

“Listen if you don’t stop I’ll actually poison your food. I have a hard enough time dealing with Kalim when he isn’t freaking out.”

Between the two of them it would just be easier to stop

Kalim will throw you a party for stopping

He’s so proud of you

“Baby you make me so proud!”

“Kalim she’s not your daughter *sigh*” - Jamil

“WHAT IF OUR DAUGHTER SMOKES!!!”

Hold up since when did he decide that-

Never mind 

Kalim is just a big drama baby and you love him for it

Idia:

Probably doesn’t really know what to think about it

On one hand you’re old enough to make your own decisions

On the other hand your decision making skills are obviously not great

Literally spend the next month trying to decide what to do about it

Makes a pros and cons visual board for confronting you about it

Also writes up a list of reactions to his confrontation

Probably also writes up like 17 different scripts all in a choose your own ending type format to include how to deal with every reaction

Ngl he panics a lot cause he knows that vaping is bad but after finding out you do it he can’t stop watching these really concerning youtube videos about how people’s lives turned into a total complete disaster because of vaping

He becomes a nervous wreck every time you smell like weed

Always has you count to ten when he sees you

Likely has visions of you in the hospital or homeless on the street wheezing about how you wished someone had stopped you 

Either you’re gonna catch on and ask him about it, initiating the conversation or he’s gonna have Ortho do it

He’s worried you will leave him for not being supportive

Literally asks you if you’re gonna leave him for this

Obviously you won’t so when you confirm that you’re staying he melts into a puddle and just cries

Highkey he looks more like one of those crazy people from the videos than you

“But Idia you’re addicted to video games and sugar. People say that’s as bad as cocaine”

Figures out that sugar releases the same chemical in your brain as cocaine

“What if you just ate a bunch of candy with me instead? We can be sugar addicts together.” (Idia I’d love to but no amount of candy is worth a break out)

Fine fine fine you’ll stop (but only cause he literally looks like he’s having withdrawals just from worrying about you) it’s ironic

Malleus:

Most dramatic by far

WHY WOULD A FRAGILE HUMAN PURPOSELY PUT THEIR HEALTH AT RISK

Ngl has zero clue what’s going on until Lilia points it out

“Huh doesn’t smoking kill humans?”

*blink* *blink*

Smoking does what to a human

“DARLING!!!!”

Seriously thinks that your going to die any minute now

Que the mental breakdown

Calls all the best healers and puts you on bed rest

“Darling I know we’re gonna get through this. Just keep fighting”

Ummm… you have no idea what’s happening

He just kidnapped you from class and put you in a Diasomnia room and started weeping like you were dying

Lowkey he already started looking at ways to preserve your body as long as possible

Also looks at coffins and tombstones

Highkey plans to buy you a large plot of land that looks over the pretty stuff in the valley of thorns

Why? you ask.

Because obviously you deserve a whole cemetery to yourself

“Malleus I’m not gonna-”

“Shhh don’t speak. You’ll only make it harder to heal”

Lilia walks in and finds this

Probably thinks this is super sweet and totally wants to leave you guys like this

But doesn’t want Malleus to suffer and you to be held on house arrest for no reason

“She’s not dying Malleus”

What? Ooooooohhhh… oops

He gets embarrassed af

Has to call back all the people he hired to prepare for your death

“Um hi there. Turns out I don’t need that jewel encrusted coffin. No no the pyramid should still be built, humans have short life spans.”

“MALLEUS!!!!”

He is so grateful you’re not dying

But would totally get pissed if you decided to smoke again

Guess that’s the end of that

[cabinofimagines]

Will’s ABCs

A/N: Today is sunny’s day -Danny

Request: I don’t think so? I didn’t find any

Words: 1,417

Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Will never has free time. Meal times and campfire nights it’s what he counts as such, but he makes sure both of you enjoy every second.

Beauty - What do they admire in their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Your bravery and generosity, you’re always ready to help and cheer your friends up and that’s something Will values a lot.

Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Will’s almost as good as an actual doctor, he quickly focuses on calming you down and help you feel comfortable and safe, he works so fast your panic attacks don’t even get to last more than five minutes lately

Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

He wants a place when you two can exist freely, whatever it is that you want to do with your life, he wants you to be able to do it without feeling judged or unable to, he’s promised to find your safe haven, and you know you will, together.

Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Quite bossy when he thinks you’re not looking after yourself, but on a good day he’s actually happy to let you take the wheel and decide for the both of you, as long as it doesn’t tire you out.

Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Will is extremely chill about fights. He does get mad, and he’s stubborn, but he forgives quickly and decides to focus on working to find a solution to the problem. He thinks there’s no use on sulking about it, and he’s right.

Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

I like to say that Will’s heart is a hippie’s heart lmao he makes sure the first thought in his head as he leaves bed is ‘Thank you’. Because life isn’t easy when you’re a demigod, but he’s got many wonderful things in life, and he knows he’s lucky.

Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Will is an open book about everything, he doesn’t have time for secrets, but he understands is you’re not ready to share all of you with him, he’ll wait, just know that he trusts you and loves you.

Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

I think Will changes you more than you to him, you’re healthy now, in more than just one way. Although you do make sure he takes a break from time to time, rushing through life won’t get him where he wants to be faster, he should enjoy the road.

Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

He only gets jealous when you react to other people’s flirting. Even if you’re just joking. He can’t help it, he wants to be the only one who makes you laugh like that.

Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Will is a gentle kisser, almost as if he were asking for your permission every time he does it. 

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Probably he let you know he liked you since day one, but was very respectful and gave you space so you could make up your mind about him. Once he was sure you were ready to reciprocate, he asked you on a date, something easy, a picnic at the beach and then you guys just talked for the rest of the day. It was beautiful.

Memory - What’s their favourite memory together?

That one time you received really amazing news and the first person you looked for was him, that’s when he realized you value him as much as he values you.

Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?

When his talking with others he makes sure to call you ‘his partner’ at least once in the conversation. When he’s with you he probably like to call you some short version of your name, or honey, even if it makes you cringe. Especially if it makes you cringe.

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

It isn’t really obvious, but he carries this cheerful air, he’s usually energetic but once he’s dating you it’s a contagious kind of energy, he’s brighter

PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

He doesn’t have any reason to hide so he doesn’t hide. If he wants to kiss you he’ll kiss your cheek or the top of your head, if you’re the one who wants to be a bit more discrete he’s happy with just holding your hand or lightly tap your arm when you’re sitting together.

Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

If you lose something in the middle of the night and you don’t have a light with you he just pulls a glow-in-the-dark-boyfriend move.

Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

You never remember when you told him you like certain stuff but somehow he knows all of it??? Like one day he gave you your favorite candy and you couldn’t even remember ever mentioning the name to him. One time you asked and he just smiled. Ngl that was kinda creepy but it’s okay bc he’s really sweet.

Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Will is your biggest fan no doubt, whatever it is you are dreaming of achieving he does everything in his power to help you get it. 

Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

He usually wants to make your dates interesting and exciting, the hospital tends to make life a bit plain, so he’s always trying to make your relationship the adventure of his life.

Understanding - How well do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

He knows you like the back of his hand. He is legally obligated to share your pain and joy no matter what, he just has to, that’s who he is.

Value - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

You are one of his priorities but if there’s an emergency he needs to attend he will definitely cut a date short. But you understand, he wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t constantly help others to stay alive. It’s okay, at the end of the day he always comes back to you.

Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

He doesn’t sing much but he memorized all of your favorite songs so he can sing to you if you can’t sleep or are a bit sad.

XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

He LOVES IT.  He loves you, why wouldn’t he shower you with love?

Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

He doesn’t want you worrying about him so he takes care of himself while you’re gone. He’s really mature about it, knows that you think of him even if you’re not around, and once you’re back he welcomes you with open arms to a warm home.

Zeal - are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

I think he would do everything in his power if you were at risk, but he values the lives of others as much as your own, it’s complicated for him to admit it, but you know he doesn’t mean to hurt you, he’s a healer, taking care of large groups of people is what he was born to do, and sacrificing that for his s/o feels too selfish. You love him a lot for that, he’s truly the bravest guy you know.

Taglist:   @beneaththeiceandsnow,  @bandshirts-andbooks

[spiderling-space]

Yes! So, I just read we can request for the staff- hehehe- May I request hcs for their reaction on seeing their s/o (fem if it's alright-) in a bride's gown? They aren't married yet (or engaged-) but Reader just so happened to see a gown infront of a shop in a shopping spree from before and tried it on, not knowing her s/o was coming to see her soon. Adult! Reader of course! ((If it is easier, perhaps a model or actress for a possible reason to happen-)) Thanks a lot if you notice this owo

The reader might be me LoL. I try on clothes even if I won’t buy them though I check their prices. I ain’t risking damaging a $200 worth dress.

I picked the wedding dresses for you if you don’t mind even if it is not relevant much. Imagine the theme of them in a way that fits you the best. Also, I didn’t think of any age for the reader since Trein is on the old side. Crowley is also but he got the bod.

Ngl it was weird to write for gramps

🐦🐦🐦🐦🐦🐦🐦🐦🐦🐦🐦🐦

Dire Crowley

<Idk which bird that is. I couldn’t find crow emoji>

Dire planned to buy (Y/N) gifts because he is so gracious. He saw shiny stuff in a store and just walked in.

“Oh ohh OOOHHH!” He starts sobbing, attracting the attention of everyone in the store.

“Dire! Why are you crying?” (Y/N) rushes to her boyfriend’s side with a concerned look on her face.

“YOU LOOK WONDERFUL AND BEAUTIFUL WITH THIS WEDDING DRESS!” He yells, scaring people around them.

Crowley thinks since (Y/N) is trying a wedding dress, he might just ask her to marry him. He leaves her alone and checks out the jewelry side of the store. He picks the shiniest and the cheapest ring and proposes (Y/N) in the middle of the store.

Safe to say, everyone including (Y/N) is shocked. Who knows how (Y/N) will respond?

🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶

Divus Crewel

Divus went out to check out the latest fashionable clothes then he saw (Y/N) checking out a store before walking in.

Divus goes after her and sees what the store sells, quirking an eyebrow.

Little Puppy wants to marry?

He walks in the store, only to see (Y/N) wearing a revealing wedding gown. She has taste. after all, she is dating him.

He loves the way the dress fits (Y/N) but her body is for his eyes. He will compliment (Y/N), making his presence known.

He will punish tease her when they are at home together but now he wants to see how she would look in a wedding dress of his choosing.

Of course, Divus loves how his puppy looks when he dresses her up.

💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪

Ashton Vargas

Ashton was planning to propose (Y/N). It is a manly thing to do after dating for a long time. He went to a wedding store to select the ring.

He sees (Y/N) trying a wedding dress and his heart stops for a moment as he takes in her form.

She looks like the princess from the tale of Beauty and the Beast, of course, Ashton finds (Y/N) the most beautiful woman on earth.

(Y/N) sees Ashton and blushes. They both ask each other what they are doing there.

Ashton tells her the truth which causes (Y/N)’s face to become even redder.

They pick the ring together after that but Ashton doesn’t say when he will propose to keep the element of surprise.

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Mozus Trein

Mozus wasn’t planning to marry for the 3rd time but he suspected (Y/N) would want to after dating for a while. Also, his sons were suggesting a new marriage for him. He went out to buy Lucius a new cat bed.

Mozus is glancing at what the youth are doing as he walks in the mall. Coincidentally, he notices (Y/N) in a store that’s meant for marrying couples.

He wonders what she is doing there and gets inside the store.

He doesn’t know how to feel when he sees (Y/N) wearing an elegant wedding dress.

He thinks she is preparing herself for marriage. He leaves the store before (Y/N) can spot him.

Both of Mozus’ ex-wives passed away after a couple years of marriage. While Mozus isn’t the one to be superstitious and he can notice if there is a curse, he developed a fear of marriage, thinking that (Y/N) will also pass away after marrying.

Mozus will need support from his sons to get used to the idea of remarrying. Until then he might be cold toward (Y/N).

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Sam

Sam’s friends from the other side reported him that (Y/N) was on a shopping spree then walked into a wedding gown store. Sam was succumbed to his curiosity and went where (Y/N) was.

The second Sam sees (Y/N) in a wedding dress, he makes a change in his future plans that included (Y/N).

Sam had a life plan, he would eventually ask (Y/N) to marry him but in a couple years. After seeing her look breathtaking, he moves his proposal date to an earlier time.

Sam won’t let (Y/N) see him. After she leaves the store, Sam will check out wedding rings, tuxedoes, wedding cakes, wedding avenue and anything that will be required at a wedding.

No doubt that Sam will bargain for the prices and he will purchase every item at the price he wishes.

I just thought of @twisted-whimsies and I’s OCs who are Mozus Trein’s sons. God they are chaotic!